


A Hearts Desire

by Nerwen, XxIrisxX



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Rating: M, Threesome - M/M/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 75,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerwen/pseuds/Nerwen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxIrisxX/pseuds/XxIrisxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erebor celebrates the alliance of Mirkwood and Dale.  However, Thranduil’s visit to Erebor proves much more eventful for Thranduil as he is struck by his much suppressed heat cycle. Usually he is able to resist its pull, however amidst so many suitors, two become the most prominent ones and overpower his better judgment and Thranduil eventually end up sharing a passionate night with both of them in his moment of weakness. The night leaves a mark in his life and left Thranduil with much more than he bargained for as a secret of his kind finally come to fruition. He conceives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 1

Title: A Hearts Desire – Chapter 1

Chapter: 1 of 13

Status: complete

Author: Nerwen / [XxIrisxX](http://archiveofourown.org/users/XxIrisxX/pseuds/XxIrisxX)

Author’s Email: [akio_amadeo@yahoo.com](mailto:akio_amadeo@yahoo.com) / nightrose0@gmail.com

Pairing:  Thranduil/Thorin/Bard, Thranduil/Thorin, Thranduil/Bard

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Series: Yes

Genre: Drama / Romance 

Summary: Erebor celebrates the alliance of Mirkwood and Dale. However, Thranduil’s visit to Erebor proves much more eventful for Thranduil as he is struck by his much suppressed heat cycle. Usually he is able to resist its pull, however amidst so many suitors, two become the most prominent ones and overpower his better judgment and Thranduil eventually end up sharing a passionate night with both of them in his moment of weakness. The night leaves a mark in his life and left Thranduil with much more than he bargained for as a secret of his kind finally come to fruition. He conceives.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien characters; I am merely borrowing them for a while having some fun too. ~Shifty Eyes~ Warning:  threesome, M/M/M, slight angst, M-Preg 

Authors Note:  Yet another fiction from Nerwen and [XxIrisxX](http://archiveofourown.org/users/XxIrisxX/pseuds/XxIrisxX), we tried our hand at an M-preg fiction which we hope you all enjoy! Feedback and kudos are greatly appreciated, enjoy!

 

***

Bard smiled as he entered the main dining hall of the mountain palace. Thorin definitely knew how to hold a celebration and this particular one was defiantly one that would be talked about for ages. Erebor was celebrating the completion of being rebuilt and Thorin wanted to throw the grandest celebration the likes of which middle earth had never seen, and he had practically invited everyone to the gala, which would last for the next few days. During the rebuilding of Erebor much had changed with Dale, Bard himself had been declared the new ‘Master’ although was wasn’t particularly fond of the title his people needed a leader and he was chosen by his people to lead and guide them and he would not be like the master of lake town he was more noble and respectable than that. Erebor and Dale began rebuilding as one, and received generous help from Mirkwood, the Elvin king Thranduil being very liberal with supplies and shipment of goods to assist as much as he was able.

Bard knew that before the celebration Thorin and Thranduil had reconciled and Thranduil had been generous with supplies and assistance in the rebuilding and Thorin was very grateful and was equally generous with compensation in which Bard was in turn grateful for since any fortune he happened to procure was minuscule at best, so he had no way to compensate the King himself. However none of that mattered now, Dale was near completion and the mountain palace was complete once more as well.

The dining hall of Erebor was like no other. Restored to its previous grandeur, it bested the likes of all other kings and kinsmen who had gathered at the celebration. Chandeliers made of pure crystal hung from above, emitting a clear light which washed the entire chamber in beautiful hues of blue and pale white. Upon the table, rested varieties of food—starting from fresh green salads, warm soup and bread with a lavishly glazed turkey in the middle. There were echoes of cheers and excited chatters from all the guests as they eagerly anticipated the alliance of three great kingdoms. History saw bloodshed among the races and now when the animosity was finally going to be put to permanent rest, none could conceal their joy for peace and new prospects of politics.

“Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain!” The announcement from the guard seemed unnecessary as none in Arda could mistake the authoritative figure of the Dwarf king before them. His very bearing was full of confidence as he stood and looked at the guests with one sweep of his eyes. His presence demanded respect. Pride of victory surrounded him like a very distinct aura and as he slowly made way towards his chair, all those he passed bowed and greeted. He sat down and once more swept his indifferent glance across the entire length of the table. While the rest settled themselves yet again, the host’s eyes fell upon two distinct figures to whom he rewarded special acknowledgement and gratitude. On one particular, his gaze seemed to flicker for the briefest of moments and before he could even dwell upon it, Thorin smoothly averted his eyes and raised his goblet of ale in honor of a toast.

Bard lifted his glass as he watched the dwarf King closely, he had very little experience and dealings with the dwarfs but he needed to make himself more accustomed to them and their culture, as much as possible so he followed their lead and accepted their hospitality. Thorin gave a small speech and then began walking about the crowds meeting and greeting with the various guests as he was host it was only polite.

Thorin was making the rounds and greeting the guests when he approached Thranduil. Bard himself had yet to approach the Elvin king, he knew well enough he would have been welcomed but at the same time he felt he needed a little more liquid courage before approaching him however Thorin seemed very sure of himself as he walked up to him. Bard remembered vividly when he spotted the elf from across the room. It had been long since he had last seen Thranduil, true they had been corresponding for the past year and had reconciled all their differences but this was all done through messengers and letters, they had yet to meet face to face since the battle of the five armies…and that war he would be sooner forgotten by Bard than remembered. Bard smiled upon seeing the elf once more; despite the fact that Thranduil was ageless he did in fact look different through the eyes of a man, as if he was seeing him for the first time. He never thought of Thranduil in any way but an arrogant, jaded elf, who would sooner advert his eyes in disgust from another man or dwarf than look upon either for more than a moment. However, he looked different now. Thranduil was speaking to Thorin, the new King under the mountain, and he looked somewhat happy, he was actually smiling and he seemed so relaxed and jovial…a side Bard had never seen before.

Bard found himself entrapped by this ethereal creature like never before, he had always found himself looking at Thranduil a little longer than he should, even when he was at odds with Thranduil he still allowed his eyes to linger. At least now he could look at him and see past the battle armor and steel demeanor, and really see him…and by the gods he was beautiful. Bard found Thranduil’s eyes particularly beautiful, an unearthly shade of lapis blue that he could stare into for an eternity, cream colored skin, pale blonde hair, this elf had everything that Bard found attractive in a mate…he had never really considered another male, much less and elf, as a suitable partner before but he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the elf so he decided to as politely as possible interrupt the two Kings and interject himself into their conversation.

Thranduil had been well aware of his host stealing more than one glance at him but each time he decided to meet Thorin’s eyes; Thorin would always manage to avert his gaze as casually as possible, as if he never noticed Thranduil at all.

After the king’s speech, Thranduil drifted towards a more secluded portion of the entire palace overlooking the foothills and the forests surrounding the Lonely Mountain. He became alert when he felt a presence behind him and sharply, he turned only to relax a moment later and smile at the one who interrupted his silence.

“King Thorin,” he greeted raising a brow when Thorin silently handed him a goblet of ale.

“I understand elves are dainty beings,” explained Thorin behind his unusual behavior.

Thranduil scoffed accepting the cup. Thorin’s voice was a little jesting but surely it held no animosity.

Smirking at the amused expression Thranduil was giving him; Thorin went on, “Dealing only with flowers, trees and wine. But in my mountain, we prefer something raw and strong. I should hope you add this to your preference as well.”

“Must you still bear your misconceptions?” Thranduil’s amusement grew as he replied shaking his head lightly. “We dainty beings are perfectly capable of balancing strength and elegance.”

As if daring Thorin, he quickly took a large swig of the ale and let out a satisfied breath before fluttering his eyes coyly at the other, his smile widening at the sparkle in Thorin’s eyes. “Which is why despite so many goblets that I have had, I am still more sober than the rest of your guests.”

“So you are,” Thorin humored Thranduil at which the Elvin king wondered if Thorin could actually notice a little murk in his eyes and the tinge of warmth in his cheeks because of the amount he had. But before Thorin could respond, Thranduil frowned lightly and tipped his head slightly peering over Thorin’s shoulder at the sound of light and hesitant footsteps.

Thorin noticed as well and he too turned slightly.

“There is no need for your stealth now, Master of Dale.” Thorin pointed out, his tone clearly reflecting that he wasn’t surprised to see Bard but he wasn’t expecting him as well.

Bard tilted his head slightly in respect before speaking. “I thought I would congratulate you King Thorin, you have accomplished an impressive amount of repair with such little time.” Bard turned his attention to Thranduil next. “And I offer my thanks to you as well King Thranduil, without your aid we would not be where we are today…It is good to see you again.” He said as the two Kings seemed to accept him within their circle which relaxed him a great deal.

Even if his approach was unexpected the two others seemed comfortable enough with him, eventually the moved to a small table and discussed various topics concerning politics and matters of their respective kingdoms before the conversation grew lighter and of a more casual nature. This was a celebration, food and drink flowed freely, and the three were all experts in those matters. Despite elves and dwarfs being rumored as to having iron stomachs Bard was able to hold his own and keep up with the two well enough and while he really had no intention of getting drunk he knew Thorin was intentionally baiting him trying to do exactly that.

“While I appreciate the attempt King Thorin, I do think I can hold my liquor well enough. Push as much ale as you like toward me I will gladly drink it.” He said taking a large swallow of his almost full cup, the comment was in jest but he could see something different in Thorin’s eyes, specifically when he would glance at Thranduil, and Bard knew exactly what the _look_ meant.

It didn’t really surprise him, why else with the type of past Thranduil and Thorin had would he go directly to him and not anyone else? He smiled slightly to himself knowing full well he was hindering Thorin somewhat in his quest to gain Thranduil’s affection which was why he was pushing so much ale toward him.

“I’m surprised that you have taken a liking to the dwarf choice of drink, I have supplied a very pleasant vintage of wine…isn’t that more to your taste?” He said which seemed to make Thorin bristle a little.

“That is quite modest of you,” Thorin nodded, keeping his eyes on Bard and unwilling to take them away. He didn’t know why but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling a strange tug in his chest whenever Bard was in their presence and the way he seemed to lean more towards Thranduil, the way Bard tried to get more eye contact with the elf rather than him was something that bothered Thorin to some extent. He frowned at Bard’s attempt to try and engage Thranduil in a conversation but out of modesty, kept his mouth shut and averted his gaze to Thranduil.

The Elvin king’s focus was natural and well balanced between himself and Bard. At Bard’s pleasantries, Thranduil only smiled and congratulated back, “Same could be said of you. It is no child’s play to handle an entire realm without much experience.”

“True enough,” Thorin cut in, instantly pulling Bard’s attention back on to him. He noticed a little flicker of gaze in the man—an expression of irritation which faded the moment it came to surface with practiced patience—but decided to pay no attention to it. “Bloodline can only grant you so much. The rest depends on your caliber.”

At that, he clearly noticed the muscles in the man’s face shifting as Bard tried his best to grit his teeth and prevent from spitting out a response. For a while, the two simply stared each other, Thranduil deciding not to intervene and simply enjoying his drink. After what felt like ages, Thorin changed his posture, the tenseness in his face evaporating at an uncanny rate as he said jovially. “But come now. We are not here only to exchange modesties. We are here to set alliances.”

His eyes travelled up at the interested face of the elf who was looking back at him with an undefined glint in his eyes, at which Thorin felt all the more encouraged in what he was about to do. “And what better way than to do so over a cup or two of ale?”

He waited till Thranduil finally nodded his head. If Thranduil agreed, he knew that Bard had no other choice to follow and follow he did. Now that they sat over a table in a private corner, free from all the hustle of the celebration, Thorin started after handing each his share of drink.

“As I understand, Dale and Lake Town’s primary resource is fish and tapestry. Mirkwood is renowned for its finest quality of meat and vegetables and Erebor of course is willing to establish a trade route encompassing these two kingdoms. Also,” he paused, emptying his glass. He noticed Thranduil’s glass to be empty as well and decided to take it upon himself in filling his drink. His eyes flickered and lingered over the Elvin king longer than necessary, his heart pressing and tugging with something as a slow heat simmered deep within his chest.

Suddenly, he was jolted out of his thoughts by Bard’s voice and the very words he spoke stirred something deep within Thorin. He simply smirked and tipped his head, filling Bard’s share as well as if to silently warn him that he’d be held for his words. As the golden drink was coming up to its brim, something triggered in Thorin when he stopped pouring and started again, setting the pitcher down, “Also, our network of defense—strong as it is—still has a long way to go before achieving perfection. I shall be obliged if King Thranduil’s men are willing to aid us as and when required.”

“I see no objection from my end,” conceded Thranduil.

Thorin was about to express his gratitude when all of a sudden, Bard decided to cut it. Thorin’s eyes narrowed at the very gesture of rudeness. He didn’t like it when Bard spoke out of turn—or so was his excuse. What truly annoyed him was the way the man was constantly eying the other person, almost begging and pleading for his attention and resorting to desperate ways of obtaining it.

At what was said, Thorin felt a sharp and hot stab in his chest as his eyes flared clearly at the insult which was thrown. It had taken his entire will not to stab Bard in his chest. That man! How dare he? He was in Thorin’s realm, under his roof, drinking his ale and yet had the audacity to demean his hospitality?

He was about to respond but Thranduil saved him the trouble.

“I appreciate the wine,” the calm voice seemed to float in the air; taking Thorin by surprise at how patient Thranduil sounded and yet so utterly bored of such antics. “But I enjoy variety.”

“As should you,” Thorin responded, immediately feeling the beat of his heart increasing as Thranduil’s clear blue eyes fell upon him. It was a feeling like no other. At that moment, Thorin simply wanted nothing more than to best Bard at everything. Perhaps it was a result of his damaged ego, perhaps it was because he thought of Bard to not really be in his league and that too was a sudden realization...but whatever it was, it was an undeniable fact that the flame Thorin felt in his core started fanning and growing, slowly crawling to all over his body, as the desire to outdo Bard burned in his eyes.

He quickly took the pitcher of ale and filled both his and bard’s goblets till the drink was short of spilling from the rims. Then he looked up and said, dare evident in his voice, “Why will you hold back on a day when being sober is nothing short of a crime?”

Bard only smiled as he picked up his goblet. “Why that almost sounded like a challenge.” He said his smile broadening and he took another generous swallow while glancing at Thranduil the playful antics he and Thorin were engaging it seeming to amuse him a little.

Thranduil shifted a little uncomfortably as both the dwarf and man seemed to be in some type of chest thumping contest, and in all honesty he thought Bards behavior was purely without tact, he was a guest and had no right to demean Thorn’s hospitality no matter how innocent the forethought was. However, Thorin’s own behavior was not much better as he continued to push Bard and rather than ignore his comments he decided to defend himself, it would be much smoother if you simply allowed the behavior to go unnoticed after all Bard was simply fishing for attention and he was getting plenty from Thorin.

Thranduil could feel heat spreading across his chest and rising to his cheeks making him flush as he tried to shake it off, tried his best to ignore it to the best of his ability. Initially Thranduil had no intention of attending this celebration but it concerned him that if he didn’t at least make an appearance that it would be considered a great insult and ultimately damage Erebor’s and Mirkwood’s still sensitive relationship, so he was obliged to come. However, he still felt he shouldn’t be here not during this time…Thranduil’s heat cycle had come into full swing and considering that he had been without a mate for so long and refused to indulge basic sexual needs it was taking a more pronounced effect than usual. He could feel the need tugging at his insides his own body practically betraying him and sending out invisible pheromones that usually only effected other elves but this time was different as he had no control over the potency this time.

Thranduil suddenly stood. “If you will excuse me for moment.” He said leaving no room for argument as he made his way to the washroom. Once there he leaned against the cool marble walls, the sudden chill making him gasp but it felt wonderful on his overly heated skin. He allowed himself ample time to cool off a moment before he splashed some cold water on his face. He wanted to leave in all honesty, but at the same time he wanted to stay, he glanced up seeing his reflection in the mirror thinking that he looked a little different than usual…he knew what that difference was he just hoped that no one else noticed it.

It had been too long since Thranduil had last taken a mate; his body was ready and prepared to bear a child, an unusual but not entirely uncommon trait among male elves, specifically among the elves of Mirkwood. When Thranduil’s father learned that Thranduil had been blessed with this ability it was one of the main driving choices to move to Greenwood where it was common and more openly accepted hoping it would be easier on Thranduil growing up in a society where he could explore this ability. Thranduil later in his life had chosen to take a female elf as his mate and they had a child together, thankfully being bonded quelled the desire to bear and birth a child of his own but now without her and being without her for so long his instinct to mate was sent into overdrive and part of him desperately wanted to procreate.

He was sure that both Thorin and Bard were oblivious to his condition otherwise Thorin would never had held the celebration during this time when the instinct to mate was at its peak. Thranduil was barely registering his surroundings and as much as it pained him to admit he loved the playful attack Bard and Thorin were engaged in, he loved to see the anger in Thorin’s eyes pumping him so full of life, and the jaunty and playful antics of Bard made his eyes sparkle and dance with amusement…they were both very attractive…

Thranduil shook his head furiously at that thought. “No.” He said to himself sternly. No matter how much his body was screaming at him to make a move toward either one of these strong potential mates he simply couldn’t. Bard was the new master of Dale with three children to look after and Thorin was the new King under the mountain, it could destroy everything that they had worked all their lives to achieve and he didn’t want to ruin that…regardless of how much he wanted them. Thranduil wanted to mate was to become with child and he wouldn’t be able to prevent it if he allowed his senses to override his better judgment…he needed to remain calm and collected, he had to resist.

***

Thorin barely noticed the sound of Thranduil’s chair pushed back and the elf leaving for his own personal needs. All the while, he had his eyes on Bard, keenly observing the man, matching his gaze as a wild desire of suppressing him violently burned in his chest. The tug in his heart increased while the fingers of one of his hand automatically curled around the goblet, tightening their grip. The want to win was untamed within him, stirring his anger and stubbornness and the more he tried thinking of any plausible rationale, stronger his innate desire became as all his thoughts seemed to circle around Thranduil—one way or the other.

His eyes widened as the sudden realization crashed against him like a hurling wave.

Thranduil? Was he possibly seeing Bard as an opponent because of Thranduil?

His brows formed a frown on their own, a snarl appearing on his lips. His heart beat increased but not for any warmth which seemed to dominate his chest but because of a mix of unknown emotions out of which he could only point out confusion and...and...something else, equally strong, equally demanding to show its presence.

 _No, impossible_. He told himself. _This does not concern anything but his haughtiness of trying to insult me. This does not concern the elf._

His ears burned as once again he was reminded of his bruised pride. Slowly, his focus settled upon Bard who was still looking at him intently, as if waiting for him to commit a mistake or take retreating steps and the very thought shook Thorin with utmost bitterness.

In a flurry, Thorin quickly downed his drink and poured another one, after which he raised his chin and waited for Bard to embarrass himself. The man too followed in action. Then Thorin poured another drink, another one, another one and another one—each shot going down his throat and leaving behind a trail of fire. But Bard was far from being a weak opponent. He matched Thorin shot by shot and even taunted him for more.

Slowly, Thorin’s mind was becoming hazy. The potency of the ale was quickly now taking him over. His speech became slurred, his eyes heavy and tremendously unfocused as he swayed on his seat. The ale was taking its effect but still Thorin wouldn’t give up.

“Tough time?” He teased, not at all bothered to hide his contempt. “Or should I have ordered _vintage wine_ for you?”

He took another swig. By then the fourth pitcher had already been on the brink of being empty.

“But what amuses me the most,” said Thorin slamming down his goblet upon the table, partly in annoyance but mostly because of the effect of the ale, “is your attempt to play host in my kingdom with _my_ guest. Amusing, is it not?”

In a moment, his eyes darkened as he lowered his chin, warning Bard with his very glare as his tone grew grimmer, “Amusing and most curious.”

“Yours?” Bard said while he placed a hand on the table, the ale Thorin had served him made him slightly unsteady and he thought it best to keep the appearance that he was unaffected. “Interesting choice of words for Thranduil.” Bard said not catching himself before the Elvin Kings name slipped from his mouth. “And simply for clarification Thorin I have no goal to hide my intentions, I don’t find it shameful to be interested in him if I am able to steal his attention for a night I fully intend to do so.” He said surprised by his own boldness.

At the very mention of the elf’s name, Thorin sat straighter immediately, his brow raising as he did not miss the slip of tongue on Bard’s behalf.

“Then by all means try!” Thorin scoffed, his chest tightening with heightened sense of pride, ego and feelings which all pertained to see Bard fail miserably. “I too shall like to see how _Thranduil_ reacts to your amateurish games. Though you must be warned, for I too have no intentions of holding back!”

“I would never dream of you holding back. Once you finished making your rounds you immediately approached him as if he was the only person in the room, I’m sure he noticed…just like I’m sure he noticed me.” Bard considered Thorin for a moment. “You know, he seems a little different than what I remember during the battle, he seems more appealing and attractive, almost in a vulnerable way. I would rather not fight with you over him as it’s not very becoming behavior for Kings. I think a compromise would be much easier.” Bard said.

The more Bard spoke, more clearly did Thorin see the overview of things Bard was trying to show him. It was true that Thranduil had always been a person of interest. During their previous encounters, Thorin saw nothing but a cold, arrogant and cruel elf but even then could he not deny the beauty Thranduil possessed. It was not conventional beauty which made him. He was cold like starlight and yet held a glow about him. His eyes were the most expressive ones Thorin had ever seen—blue like ice, bright like diamonds and clear like crystal itself.

Back then, he had never dwelled much upon the tug in his heart that he felt for the Elvenking. Hatred though as it maybe, after the Battle of Five Armies, the same elf was seen in a different light and the disgust Thorin felt receded, allowing for the same tug to overpower his heart and desires.

“Compromise you say,” he entertained Bard in a smooth and rich voice, one of his brows rising in amusement.

Thorin’s lips slowly stretched. He regarded the man with calculating eyes, his mind already swimming with variations of the proposal Bard was throwing at him. A quiet heat was gathering in his chest, rumbling his heart, mind and basic control of his conscience till his greatest urge began dominating him.

Finally, Thorin gave up whatever impositions e thought he had and settled for his instincts, which demanded nothing but one thing. Thranduil.

“I quite like the proposition.” At last he said his voice growing dark with lust.

 ***

 

Thranduil breathed heavily, every single inhalation of air proving that much more fatal for him in his current state. Every whiff filled his nostrils with strong musky scents—scents of power, lust, wanting rummaging his heart, gripping his mind with a blind urge to act. He moaned, stumbling out of the washroom. With the very first step he took, he felt something strong hitting his senses and causing his head to spin. His eyes flew open, chest heaved as he desperately looked about trying to locate the source of such powerful hormones.

He clutched his head, hoping against hope that it could somehow keep it from spinning as he slammed against something which felt like a large panel of metal. Blindly, he reached out for it, his hands roaming over the carved pane, scratching it with nails as he sought for some type of holding which could support his weakening knees. Before long, his chest heaved again and Thranduil arched his back in pure wanton. His senses numbed, his eyes dilated and at that moment, he felt nothing but a hard clash of powerful scents colliding against him and tormenting him like a wild ravage storm.

Once Thorin agreed to his proposal Bard felt himself relax a little, he didn’t really want a competition with the dwarf and it wasn’t really needed, not to mention Thranduil could easily decide for himself whom he would rather share his time with. However, if they worked together to seduce this seemingly untouchable being Thranduil wouldn’t be given that much of an opportunity to deny either of them.

As they waited Bard could feel himself becoming anxious and impatient. _‘What’s taking him so long?’_ he wondered as the thought drifted to him head that maybe he left for his room and had no intention of coming back. The thought forced Bard to get up and go in search of the elusive elf; he couldn’t let this opportunity slip by. Thranduil rarely left Mirkwood. He preferred his Elvin stronghold to any other, and invitations were rarely responded too, Bard was almost virtually certain he would not have this chance again. He rounded the corner and nearly stumbled backward when he collided with Thranduil and even more surprised when the elf held on to him almost desperately as if he would topple over at any given moment had he not gripped Bard so tightly.

Bard leaned a little closer to him. “Are you all right?” He asked seeing Thranduil arch away from the proximity of their bodies although the motion seemed more seductive than offensive, almost as if he was enjoying it a little too much. Bard noticed Thorin out of the corner of his eye as he approached them. “Would you like an escort to your room?” He said softly allowing his breath to brush across Thranduil’s neck, the low words teasing the delicate point of his ear.

The jet of air coming off from Bard’s mouth caressed Thranduil’s skin like the tip of a very sharp and delicate knife, sending shivers down his spine. His knees weakened further at that, his entire body starting to tremble by the rich and powerful musk entrapping him in a myriad of desires. His rolled his neck, and panted hard, trying this best not to lose whatever little consciousness he had. However, the touch of the man’s strong hands, the gentle teasing of his ears proved to be so strong that Thranduil’s willpower eventually got overpowered.

His eyes widened with the dilation of his pupils. His parted his moist mouth, taking short rasps of breath before slowly turning slightly, enough to face the one behind him. His eyes darkened even further when the very action exposed him to even stronger scent, tearing a tiny whimper out of his mouth. He clutched his chest and ever so slowly started rubbing it, hoping to soothe the burning sensation which was rapidly overtaking him. The scent was driving him mad. It was as if, the musk was everywhere. Same yet distinct—equally powerful and equally demanding—so much that it was virtually impossible for Thranduil in his current state to determine whether it came from the same source of two different beings.

His hands started moving to his neck, sternum and jaw line. His back arched, rubbing against the stout frame of the man and jolting immediately as the very contact sent shockwaves down his legs. His eyes drooped, hand rolling against Bard’s chest as soft chants escaped from his lips.

“Take me. Take me, please. It throbs. It hurts. Please take me.”

All of a sudden, he moaned and gasped in pure ecstasy as he felt something wrapping around his hips, rubbing an aching sort of a heat in his inner thighs and slowly moving towards his throbbing member at an irritably slow pace. He felt another musk—a more powerful one—slamming harshly against him, clashing against the one which already surrounded Thranduil, warring over it as if to take its place, leaving Thranduil completely wrecked in the turmoil.

He moaned and instinctively bucked his hips but before he could gain any pleasure, he felt his legs shift backwards while he was hurriedly dragged away. A dull ‘thud’ was heard—closing of a door, as his rational mind would later deduce—and before Thranduil could gather his bearing, he found himself being pushed by a strong pair of hands, till the cold and warmth of stones and rugs hit his skin, making the elf writhe in utter pleasure.

Thranduil closed his eyes being unable to focus on his surrounding area but not really caring either. Wave after wave of sensation slammed into his body and his mind was unable to catch up to the blows which left him disoriented and his own primal instinct which he was fighting so hard to keep at bay overthrew him completely. He could feel the touch of fabric upon his skin making him shift and twist uncomfortably, he could feel it, he could hear it being torn in haste, Thranduil realizing belatedly it was his own hands pulling at his clothing removing it clumsily before assistance was granted in the task.

He reached forward grasping at the figure before him, he could feel heat at his back also, and warmth biting at his skin only making him yearn all the more to expel this heat, throw himself into the fire of ecstasy as if his own warmth had no comparison. A flash of pain in his head and neck shocked him but it was quickly forgotten when hungry lips claimed his own but he tore his mouth away.

“Not enough.” He growled twisting in the arms that held him so tightly being pushed and pulled into so many directions he thought he would be torn apart, but it still wasn’t enough he needed more.

Thorin practically lunged forward, sending himself, Thranduil as well as Bard tumbling over to the rug in frenzy. As soon as they hit the floor, Thranduil’s body rolled and writhed against it, clutching the furs, roaming over the body underneath him, pressing against Thorin’s chest, leaving behind a trail of heat and quivers which muddled Thorin’s mind to a stronger degree than what the ale had already done.

While Bard attacked his neck, he hungrily pressed his lips against the other, drawing in a pleasurable breath as he felt Thranduil reacting underneath him, trying to buck his hips against Thorin’s. The action led Thorin himself to place his hands over Thranduil’s heaving chest, rubbing against it, moving lower and lower down to his torso before dragging them back up again till they came up to his collars. Thorin moaned and tilted his head, tasting Thranduil, nibbling him at his lower lips, teasing the inner walls with his tongue. He felt all the more excited when Thranduil complied and opened his mouth even further, allowing for Thorin to slip in his tongue and roll it against Thranduil’s own, pushing it deeper and deeper till he could go no more.

There was something about the elf that he could not place his finger on. He tasted maddeningly delicious—like honey and thick milk—which seemed to explode his taste buds and his mind the more he thought about it. But there was more. There was something else…something stronger which inadvertently pulled Thorin towards the elf, which seemed to focus his thoughts only upon the elf all the while stabbing his heart with heat and want, building a tormenting anticipation within him.

His chest grew hotter and hotter by the second, his mind blurring with lust and desire, tipping him over ecstasy as the heat from his heart circulated all over his body, pooling in between his legs.

He growled when Thranduil shifted his head. Interruption was not appreciated. Instinctively, his hands clenched the elf’s collars and dragged them roughly till a sharp sound of fabric ripping could be heard. Thranduil seemed to enjoy the little action as he fluttered open his eyes once, taking in Thorin deeply before closing them with a moan as Thorin trailed kisses all over the exposed flesh, tearing the rest of the fabric out of his way.

He shifted till he was sitting in between Thranduil’s legs, leaning against the elf, kissing his neck and jaws before hurriedly moving up to his lips. The kiss was even wilder, hungrier, messier and even more demanding. Soon enough, the heat in between Thorin’s legs started growing hotter and hotter till a sharp and sweet pain accumulated at his member. Thorin grinded against the other ad started rocking his body in such a way that his member made contact with Thranduil’s base. The very touch seemed to constrict his chest with an overwhelming feeling, sending wave after wave of pleasure all over his body, making him gasp as the pain grew along with the weeping desire for release.

Bard kissed along Thranduil’s neck and shoulder, his tongue tracing the thin vein line that seemed to pulsate in rhyme with his own heart before wrapping around the shell of Thranduil’s ear. He tasted so good; Bard could have devoured this elf all evening but there was urgency in the elf, a desperate need for more that Bard couldn’t ignore.

He watched as Thorin removed Thranduil’s clothing, tearing it away from him to reveal the warm alabaster skin giving Bard the opportunity to run his hands along Thranduil’s sides to his hips, they were not narrow as he first suspected they were wider and it gave the elf as almost alarming flexibility as he arched closer to him and leaned forward to Thorin. He didn’t’ seem to care who was touching him as long as he was receiving the attention he so desperately needed.

He couldn’t stand watching Thorin kiss Thranduil any longer so he grabbed a fistful of Thranduil’s silken hair pulling his head backward until he could claim that sweet mouth for his own. He was slightly surprised when Thranduil’s tongue immediately sought for his own, the situation driving Bard to pull him closer, one arm wrapping about his wait the other running across his chest teasing the pink rosebud nipples that hardened under his touch. He pulled his mouth away as Thranduil tried to pull him back only to be deterred once more.

“You like that.” Bard breathed into Thranduil’s ear while gripping and stroking the elf’s exposed body. He felt Thranduil’s hand reach for his clothes as he disrobed himself without losing contact with Thranduil. He glanced at Thorin who met his eyes for a moment and smiled at him knowingly.

Thranduil moaned, pleading muffled words as he was pulled from the kiss. His eyes shone with desperation which was filling him entirely as his tongue darted out, seeking for it to be caressed against another when his kiss ended abruptly. He moaned loudly when he felt another mouth filling in the void he utterly reviled at that point. It was different, cooler and much slower than the previous one while the other’s tongue took time to explore every inch of him, rolling and brushing against his own tongue and the tip of his mouth.

His pants were hard and moist. Need was in full blossom within Thranduil’s chest, throbbing and hitting him with a burning agony he managed to suppress for many years. His hands aimlessly wandered above and below, seeking for any form of support upon which he could lean against as his entire flushed frame arched and rocked against an erotic sweep of current.

Suddenly, his eyes shot open and he was quickly made to pull out of the kiss with a sharp gasp when the coolness of this mouth was jerked back by a rough hand, another one of which slid down his breeches, pulling them lower before grasping Thranduil’s hardening member and stroking him with varied pace.

In response, Thranduil spread his legs further and grind his own hips against the one underneath, clenching on to the one on top of him with dear life. His lust was unbearable at that point. His mind had blocked out every single thought and concern he was to have long ago. Now, there was one thing which reined it; one thought that echoed in his head like a never ending chant- to want. To need.

A whimper escaped his lips when a large hand held him by his jaw line, stretching his neck before it was being kissed and suckled by a warm and despondent pair of lips. The way it touched him, _teased_ him was so different from what he was feeling underneath.

While the touch and suckles on his chest and torso were long and hard, almost willing to drain out his very essence, the kiss from above and the hand on his groin were filled with so much impatience and ferocity that thrilled Thranduil and aroused the submissive being he buried deep within him.

Blood rushed to his face and ears, his heart was beating rapidly, sweat drenched his skin and his breathing was extremely hard and heavy as finally, his subconscious took full reign of himself, freeing the feral submissive being which was denied of pleasure for so long. He pressed his hips down hard only to spring back up again as his entrance felt the tip of an arousal probing him with its hardness. However, as he bucked up again, he was met with another arousal—thicker and rock hard—grinding against his inner thighs and his own weeping member, exploding Thranduil’s mind and sending him at the brink of climax.

Bard couldn’t help but growl a little at Thranduil’s movements, they were erratic and frenzied one moment to focus entirely on Thorin then to push against him so wonton and sensual seeking to merge their bodies as one, and he couldn’t seem to find a medium between the two bodies granting him every bit of their combined attention. Thranduil’s body was emitting bounds of heat as his hips pushed back only to be met with Bard’s own straining arousal but the sensation was taken away a moment later when he bucked his hips forward alternating between them and driving Bard to near insanity. Bard wrapped one arm around Thranduil’s waist holding him firmly as the lithe body rocked back and forth between him and Thorin, then he took hold of one of Thranduil’s thighs forcing him to spread his legs further and expose himself all the more. Bard took an almost shuddering breath as the tip of his manhood brushed that moist entrance as he bucked forward breaking through the tight ring of muscle and tearing a scream from Thranduil as he did so.

Bard didn’t slow down though, he pulled Thranduil closer to further impale the elf upon him and it felt extraordinary, unlike anything he had ever felt before. He still had some reserve otherwise he would have been undone within moments, but no he would make sure this elf felt every inch of him, make him want him more and desire to be filled by him. Bard’s breath came in heavy gasps as he bit and grazed his teeth along Thranduil’s skin his hands gripping his hips in a vice like hold his own hips thrusting forward every so often to bury himself deeper.

Thranduil thrashed at first at the sudden constraint he felt upon his waist. However, all that resulted was him feeling more of one arousal underneath him and while he flinched in ecstasy from its sheer feel, he was met with another one, both grinding him and wanting to push their way in. It was a sensation like no other. The hardened tips sent wave after wave of excitement, tearing him apart, driving him mad and pushing him further into oblivion. Thranduil’s own member responded, throbbing in pain, aching for attention and begging for the release he sorely needed. Breathing hard, Thranduil soon decided to take matters in his own hands and started rocking his hips, each half of the undulation spilling pleasure all throughout his entire form.

Thorin growled when the slender frame was locked over a stouter one. Blind in his lust and desire, he felt a sense of overwhelming range of emotions spiking within him, the prominent of which was a sheer want of Thranduil against his body, conjoined with him and kept further away from the unwanted presence underneath all of them. His heart swelled with rage and possessiveness when he felt a hand forcing Thranduil’s legs apart.

Relentless in his approach, he grind down further against Thranduil, pressing his manhood against the other’s before sliding his own hand underneath and pushing away Bard’s palm who resisted back equally passionately.

Before long, Thorin felt Thranduil’s body curving to extreme angles as a scream of pain mixed pleasure ripped from his throat. It was then that he lost any thread of rationalism he had about him at that point. The feeling of possessiveness swelled within him, burning in his eyes as he desperately clung on to the only person holding his interest. Without thinking it through, Thorin slipped another arm underneath the elf and lifted his hips slightly, which was enough of an opening Thorin really required. He felt Bard trying to pull Thranduil down, he felt Thranduil’s legs spreading even further along the drawing of his whimpers. Thorin licked his lips and saw the sight before him.

Thranduil was moaning and whimpering, panting wildly as his flushed chest heaved up and down. He lifted his head and was gazing at Thorin for the briefest of moments with hazed eyes before closing them and rolling his neck as his pleasure fueled the agony arising from the same. Thranduil didn’t care who it was he would have in him; he didn’t care whether it was Bard or Thorin or both! He was in extreme need. And so were they.

Without thinking anything further, Thorin slid his own member within Thranduil, feeling a hiss coming off from the elf before Thranduil resumed his sways in order to accommodate him. He felt bard tugging Thranduil down once more, moving so that Thorin could be forced out but he too was equally adamant. The moment Thranduil arched his body, he spread Thranduil’s legs even further apart and pushed himself in, trying to corner Bard as he sought for sole dominance.

Thranduil gasped audibly as his body was stretched further and his body reacted wildly to the sheer force of the experience. A blazing mouth locked to his own, teeth and nails digging into his skin leaving trails of fire in all places and a searing almost unbearable pleasure inside him. Tears breached his eyes as the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelmed him, being pushed and pulled with no rhyme or reason to the movements at one moment being impossibly full then feeling almost empty then to a pleasant medium and then all over again in a different order. He felt fingers intertwining with his own which seemed to clam him slightly as he squeezed the hand hard in response. Thranduil had needed this, had wanted this with such abundance and even now it the height of pleasure and excitement he simply couldn’t get enough.

Bard could see Thranduil mouth moving although no words escaped the beautiful lips he could see it easily enough, _‘more’_ over and over Thranduil mouthed the same words making Bard smile. Even though Thorin was fighting so valiantly for complete dominance it was not easily obtained and no matter how much he wanted it Thorin alone would not be enough to satisfy Thranduil. Bard pulled Thranduil’s head back once more and kissed him hard.

“How can we satisfy you, tell us what more we can do.” He whispered into his ear reaching down to take hold of his weeping arousal but it wasn’t in kindness or want to give relief, Bard squeezed the base which would prevent Thranduil from reaching his completion. “Say what you want, I want to hear it.”

Thranduil shivered in pure ecstasy, the void he had long felt within himself soon reaching its fulfillment amidst torrents of emotions plundering his insides to a wrecked mess. He whimpered in annoyance when his lips were freed yet again but the rest of his complaint went muffled under another mouth clamped over his own, making his heart hammer against his chest with the onset of a strong climax.

He gasped and twisted when he was denied of the basic need of it all but before he could express his irritation he felt shivers crawling down his skin as a light rasp of air teased his ears with tantalizing words.

“Yes, yes more. Please, more!” he urged, twisting and swaying his body all the more, rocking and rubbing his member against the hand which held it tight. When it didn’t seem to budge, Thranduil threw his head back and rubbed his thighs against another body above him pleading the other to finish what had been started.

Thorin needed no other encouragement. Instead of trying to move Bard’s hand and wasting his energy, he started thrusting in and out of Thranduil. Each time he pulled away, he could feel the moistness of Thranduil’s muscles releasing around him before clenching back once again as he rammed back in further and deeper with each move. The pace became faster. Flesh collided against flesh, hands tangled with each other, pants echoed throughout the whole chamber. The push and shoves became frequent. Kisses grew desperate, thrusts grew wilder and before long, Thorin felt his body stiffening as his legs started to twitch with the oncoming of an orgasm he could no longer deny.

Bard felt his breath catch in his throat when Thorin began to move at a fast pace the movement of Thorin’s arousal sliding across his own so deep within Thranduil sent waves of pleasure coursing through his veins, his hold on Thranduil lessened and he began to stroke the whimpering King with firm and quick pumps. Bard began to unconsciously buck his hips forward as well, joining Thorin in this fight for release as the pace of his hand matched the thrust of his hips.

He placed his mouth over the pulse point on Thranduil’s neck and sucked hard, he wanted evidence of his encounter with Thranduil to be visible later, not to disappear as soon as their frenzied sex had reached its end. He bit down hard and sucked equally hard before releasing, and marking Thranduil seemed to send him over the edge as he tumbled into orgasm.

Thranduil’s eyes flashed open at the feel of a mouth over the very tender spot of his neck and as it sucked and nibbled with a drastically slow yet firm pressure, he couldn’t keep his hands from being flailing wildly before resting beside his head, clenching his hair with unsettling motions before falling against his sides where they swept and clenched the rug with a vice-like grip.

The brushes against his member were delightfully relieving, making pleasure swirl throughout his chest, sending him almost over the edge of completion. However, he seemed to only stay at the edge, never crossing the boundary as Bard’s hand was torturously slow—enough to stimulate him, to madden him with need but never fully satisfying him.

Letting out an unclear scream, he pressed against another source of pleasure, the contact with which intensified the thrusts. The burn he felt was nothing compared to his ecstasy, which in turn increased it with its searing heat. His eyes softened as he craned his neck and strained to see the one on top of him. Thorin was flushed, drenched with sweat and shining in his pure want as he delved deeper and deeper within him.

A moan drawled out from his throat when yet another palm rested atop his throbbing member, forcing to touch it through the already present tight grip of another. The more fingers tangled and meddled with one another, hotter Thranduil’s groin became, shooting out an erotic agony all over his shuddering body. Thranduil suddenly felt himself lifting when a hot mouth wrapped around the tight pink sensitive areas over his chest, sucking hard till Thranduil could feel the coolness of teeth against his nipples.

He thrashed in bucked in pure wanton, his hands leaving the rug and tangling desperately with thick manes which brushed against his shoulders and neck. He arched even more till his lips found the lobe of an ear upon which he too began sucking, though his breath would falter each time the attention on his nipples increased, creating a powerful vacuum before it travelled to the centre of his sternum.

The pain he felt was temporarily forgotten. Instead, Thranduil reveled in the simmering heat which emerged from his back and slowly spread to his chest, throat and legs, pooling at his member despite having a restraint in the form of Bard’s palm. Instinctively, his body bucked and swayed with the rhythm set by Thorin, only to heave under Bard’s thrusts a moment later. By that time, it was no longer a rhythm but an orchestrated chaos—wild and passionate where three bodies moved as one and became one yet different all at the same time.

Soon, Thranduil felt his mind emptying all form of thoughts; his senses numbed, a current of emotions took a hold of him. His member throbbed but not with pain, but with a feeling that was too pleasurable and too erotic to define. His eyes fluttered close, unable to withhold the wonderful array of feelings circulating within him. His pants became harder, the thrusts in him faster as an overwhelming climax began uprooting his very foundation.

Then, Thranduil felt his head thrown back along with a scream when is body stiffened along his legs and trembled, followed by a jolt of relief and pleasure as something wet truckled down his thighs. Instinctively, his tongue darted out, moaning in great pleasure when it was clashed against another one while a demanding mouth locked with his own, muffling out every single scream that left Thranduil’s throat as he climaxed again and again—one orgasm more powerful than the last one. His hips bucked when the same kind of jolt was felt within him—from above and below, driving him mad, tearing his mind to pieces, swearing to wipe off every shred of his semblance with an powerful effect which shrouded Thranduil.

Slowly, the feelings rolled down, leaving behind only their afterglow. The thrusts eased, his senses became clearer as did his fuddled mind. Only harsh pants and heavy breaths echoed throughout the chamber.

Bard rode the waves of his orgasm in a blissful momentarily euphoria before the movements atop him brought him back to reality. He shook his head a little trying to clear it while berating himself, his own release came so fast he had completely forgotten about Thranduil’s own need. He let go of Thranduil’s waist and used both his hands to fondle Thranduil’s sex, massaging the scrotum and pumping his shaft quickly, the soft moan escaping his throat made Bard smile as he focused all his attention back on the Elvin King.

Thorin felt his own climax rolling against him as he let himself be swept by its currents. His breath hitched at the sight of the elf, staring back at him with lustful half lidded gaze. His cheeks flushed, his mouth parted, shining with moisture as his needs spilled from his darkened eyes.

His hissed in pure pleasure when callous fingers entangled themselves with his hair, pulling him down when Thorin smashed his lips over Thranduil’s, fondling his lips, sucking them hard and at the same time rolling his tongue inside his mouth as he came again and again.

When the world seemed to tether at the brink of incoherence, Thranduil’s body fell limply against the one underneath before rolling off on to the floor, the weight of the one above sliding partly away from his as well. Eventually, his lids became heavy with exhaustion and Thranduil slowly drifted off to sleep.

***

Let us know what you think! Thanks for reading!

 


	2. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised I said I would update on the weekend ^_^ thanks to everyone who gave us such positive feedback with kudos, comments, and bookmarks! We really appreciate it! Hope everyone enjoys chapter 2.

Thranduil’s eyes slowly fluttered opened as the sun began to rise in the east, he groaned unhappily wishing the sun would simply dip back under the horizon and allow him more rest, but he couldn’t make the world turn slower. He snuggled a bit under the covers before realizing he wasn’t alone, he sat straight up slightly alarmed for a moment not remembering what had transpired the night before but it slowly crept back to him.

Thranduil gasped and covered his mouth. He didn’t remember exactly what had happened but the dwarf and man now sleeping next to him was enough of an indicator. Had he actually…? He knew his heat cycle was rather adamant but he had been able to resist it for so long and to become undone at the mere touch of another, and another, and even worse was that he had not bedded another elf, his body decided to react to the advance of a man and a dwarf and the shame burned Thranduil that he could be so depraved in sexual desire.

Thranduil buried his face in his hands silently cursing himself.

_How could you have been so foolish! You are better than this, to give into your desire. Such behaviour is below you!_

Thranduil continued to berate himself hating the fact that he had been so needy and shameless and the fact that they were fellow kings made the situation all the worse. He couldn’t stand staying here with them, if he had to face them he wasn’t sure what he could say or do…he wasn’t in love with them and he was almost certain they did not love him either, it would be better if he left without the awkwardness.

So Thranduil as silently as possible dressed himself in his slightly torn garments before making his way back to his own chamber and changing into his riding attire. He knew it was somewhat disrespectful to leave without a word but with the situation he was sure Thorin would understand and hopefully not hold it against him later. It was better this way and Thranduil had all but convinced himself of this fact as he rode back to Mirkwood.

 

 ***

 

It had been a little over two week since the encounter Thranduil had with the master of Dale and the King under the mountain, they had made no attempt to contact him and Thorin had not seemed displeased with his abrupt departure so Thranduil had relaxed after a few days and resumed his normal duties. However, despite this he had felt unnaturally tired, exhausted easily and slept much later in the day than he was accustomed too and had the sensation been fleeting he would have ignored it but it wasn’t exactly getting better.

He jerked awake when a tray was set beside him, prompting Thranduil to swiftly turn and massage his sleep fuddled eyes before looking up at the one he was expecting.

“It is a little too late for breakfast, is it not?” He groaned, sitting up straight. The very movement stirred something within him, erupting in an awkward discomfort before it dissipated. Thranduil frowned and took one glance at the food set beside him. It had everything he liked and yet, somehow he couldn’t stand the bare sight of it.

“Not if you had only a few morsels you call ‘dinner’.”

Thranduil’s eyes flew open at the reply. He barely had time to mask his surprise before catching a good gaze at one who was none other than his own son.

Legolas seemed to notice the bewilderment on his father’s face. Clearly the king had expected Galion. However, it was still no plausible reason for his father to seem startled at his presence and that revelation itself was enough to draw out a tiny frown on Legolas’ forehead.

Thranduil, seeing the confusion on his son’s face, quickly shrugged off his astonishment and before long, his unprepared state was shrugged off and was replaced by a nonchalant demeanour—one that all were accustomed seeing.

“It is only exhaustion, Legolas. The journey was taxing,” he responded as lightly as he could, hoping that his son wouldn’t probe deeper into the matter. His eyes flickered instantly after the thought as he realized how desperately he wanted Legolas to believe his current state as the aftermath of his journey. He took one glance at his son’s suspicious ace and it was at that moment, he felt his heart skipping a beat when he gathered how desperate _he_ was to believe on the same! That he didn’t only brought an odd sort of chill within his chest.

“Only exhaustion?” Legolas repeating taking a seat near his father. “You’ve been saying that for the past week ada…” Legolas said concern clearly evident in his voice. “If it was truly the journey it should have long since passed, not to mention you seem so distracted and you’re not eating well either, just last night you said you felt ill and refused to finish supper.” Legolas was truly concerned for his father’s health something he was unaccustomed to, elves did not become sick and if that was the case what was wrong with his father.

“I’m not berating you ada I just…” Legolas paused. “Maybe you should see the apothecary?” Legolas suggested. “If nothing else they might be able to determine why you are so tired and give you something to help, it would put my mind at ease…I worry is all.” Legolas said looking intently at Thranduil.

Legolas’ probing ignited something within Thranduil. He glared down at his son, his heart racing slightly at the very implication his son was profusely rejecting and answered sharply, “I should think you matured enough to not associate distraction with illness. You seem to forget my responsibilities which demand a lot of my energy and focus. It is not unnatural for me to be weary at the end of the day!”

Almost immediately as the words escaped his mouth, he noticed Legolas’ face freezing with shock at the unexpected rebuke. Thranduil gasped and felt his lips tremble ever so slightly, unsure of what to say to his son and how to apologize. However, Legolas didn’t take it to heart and quickly shrugged it off much to Thranduil’s relief. His eyes began softening and just as Thranduil was eager to change the subject, his face hardened yet again at Legolas’ next words.

“No, but you do question me!” The tang in his voice was uncalled for, shocking father and son alike. Thranduil instantly frowned and clenched his teeth while his heart beat doubly fast. He didn’t know why it was that he was reacting in such a manner. So defensive and adamant as if to prove a point that really needed no shedding of light. Legolas was worried, he understood it and the boy did speak for his benefit. And it wasn’t that Legolas’ worry was illogical.

Suddenly, Thranduil felt his heart stopping altogether as a cold realization swept over him. His eyes grew wide ever so slowly and he felt his entire body freezing in place while he looked at his lap blankly.

In fact, it was the logic behind Legolas’ concern which shook Thranduil. He let out a shuddered breath, feeling the onset of fear and frantic prayers taking over his heart and mind.

_It was the journey_ , he told himself, clenching his fists and breathing hard. _It was nothing but the journey and_ not _the encounter involved with it._

His mouth started growing dry. Panic started accumulating in his chest. He tried very hard to meet his son’s gaze and when he couldn’t, the anxiety turned even colder, stabbing him with shame and guilt as he unwittingly tried to hold onto his innocence in the matter with grave desperation.

He shivered at the feeling of a gentle pressure upon his shoulder. Finally, he gathered courage and met Legolas’ gaze which was extremely worrisome.

Legolas searched his father’s eyes for any sign of lies or concealment but he found nothing, if anything his father’s eyes seemed brighter, more light shinning inside him and that made Legolas take a step back and regard him quizzically for a moment. He shrugged it off for the moment though.

“I would never be so presumptuous to think you incapable, but you are also not infallible so please see the apothecary just to be safe, if not for yourself please do it for me.” Legolas said leaving his father’s chambers to attend to his own duties.

Thranduil sat still, pondering over Legolas’ words and trying his best to resolve a conflict between fact and denial which was tearing him up from inside. He longingly looked at the doorway through which Legolas passed not too long ago. A sudden surge of wanting to have his son beside him washed over him.

At last when reason had won, Thranduil sighed and stood up, willing himself to head for the healer’s.

 

***

 

Legolas stormed down the passageway, ignoring curious gazes and formal greetings as he rushed towards the apothecary. He was summoned by the healer in the midst of his training which filled him with intense concern. He felt his worry bordering on heightened level just by considering the fact that Thranduil had actually heeded his advice and sought help. He knew well enough how resilient and adamant his father was. When the news of him seeking the healer’s advice had reached Legolas, the young prince could not control himself and dashed off with his heart in his hands.

He quickened his steps when he approached his intended destination. Forgetting all his norms, he burst through the door and searched wildly for his father, before coming face to face with the healer herself.

He gasped and blanched at the very sight of her. Her ancient grey eyes were firm and cold, her expression unreadable. Throughout the entire chamber, an eerie silence ruled which increased his growing sense of trepidation.

“What has happened?” He rasped, shocked at how uncooperative his voice had decided to become at that very moment. He tipped his head and looked over her shoulder at the stiff form of his father, his eyes growing with fear at the very sight.

Thranduil was oddly silent. One of his hands clutched a side of his head and his normally composed face now hid no traces of shock and fear which shrouded him.

Fear gripped Legolas’ heart. He felt his mouth growing dry along with his voice.

“What has happened with my father?” He asked again more despondently, hoping against hope that the healer delivered no ill news of his father’s health. He was not ready. He had suffered the loss of his mother. He couldn’t lose his father as well. He was _not_ ready!

The healer gave a slight sigh and regarded the young prince for a moment. “Your father will be all right.” She said simply which seemed to relive the young prince immensely, although worry was still clearly written across his features.

She glanced back at her King who still refused to meet her gaze after she had informed him of his current condition…she had discovered that Thranduil was not ill. He was in fact with child. It was not uncommon, in Mirkwood specifically, and she had treated and seen many males who were pregnant. Exhaustion was one of the side effects in the early weeks as the body was shifting and changing to make room for a child. A male’s body was not as intuitively equipped as a woman’s, so as the appropriate changes took place one would naturally become weak and easily fatigued. Appetite was also a concern; while the body was shifting it generated nausea so ones appetite was fleeting at a time when more nutrition was needed most, it was good that the King had come to see her.

She knew exactly how to care for and supervise this process; however it did cause her a moment of pause when she discovered her King’s condition, not because he was pregnant as that was always a joyous moment in an elf’s life, but more so from the fast she knew that Thranduil was not bonded. Thranduil had no mate or life partner of which she was aware of and if he wasn’t bonded then the question of who the father was remained in her mind, if he had joined casually with someone and became with child as a result it was a grave dishonour and considered a deeply shameful act…however it was not her place to pass judgment upon anyone least of all her King.

“I’ll prepare the suitable supplements you will require, I will also need to examine you one every two weeks. Until then your exhaustion should pass in a day or two. Keep your activities to a minimum or you’ll agitate the nausea even more. Try to eat normally. I’ll see if I can create a suppressant if it doesn’t subside.” She said before glancing at the ever confused prince. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She said leaving the room so the Prince and King could have a moment.

Legolas glanced at his father who was sitting as still as a stature shock evident in his eyes. “Ada.” Legolas said stepping closer. “What is she talking about?” He asked not understanding anything she said.

The healer’s words were worse than poison, burning him and stabbing him till guilt and shame bled from within, consuming whatever sense of honour he had. He gritted his teeth and brought up another hand to his head, clenching his eyes shut all the while shaking his head in constant denial.

He heard Legolas speak. He heard his son addressing him. He sounded so young and scared and confused...and yet, Thranduil couldn’t bring himself to even meet his son’s gaze! How could he? Especially after what he had done!

He bit his lips as Legolas came closer and knelt before him till Thranduil could no longer ignore his inquisitive eyes. The moment he laid his gaze upon his son, he felt his heart twisting with a hot blade that seemed to plunge deeper and deeper as his sense of guilt amplified.

However, he couldn’t keep it from Legolas. He was the only family he had left. Surely his son would understand, would he not?

“I am...” He started with shuddering breath, swallowing thickly before looking up. His eyes shone with apology and silent pleadings, requesting ardently for Legolas not to hate him and forgive his irrational act but his tongue betrayed him. “I...it happened in Erebor. The cycle. I couldn’t control.”

His words faltered. Slowly Thranduil’s eyes widened when Legolas’ shock started moulding into disbelief and eventually to the unmistakable signs of disgust. Yet he tried desperately wanting to tell his son how sorry he was, that he was not in his right mind and it was his _heat_ which caused his lapse of judgement. However the more he tried to explain, more apparent Legolas’ disgust became and harder he found _himself_ to have courage.

It took a moment for Legolas to understand what his father was talking about but at the mention of his cycle Legolas understood that implication and the pieces slowly fell into place.

Could it be? Was it possible that this could happen?

Legolas knew at an early age what his father and other males were capable of; it was rare with Sinda elves. So Legolas didn’t possess the trait, but growing up mostly in Mirkwood where it was more common with the Silvan elves, he accepted his father’s capability without question or worry. Legolas also knew how powerful ones heat cycle could be. Legolas had only recently begun to experience it himself. He had wondered how his father was able to control it with the loss of his wife, Legolas’ mother. If one was without a mate it was said the need was even stronger however, his father always seemed to be able to control it…apparently he had faltered.

“Ada…” Legolas didn’t know what to say to him, he should have known better than to go to Erebor during his cycle, which was irresponsible and foolish! It was no wonder he was now…now _pregnant_! “Why would you go to Erebor during your cycle? You have always been able to control it…how could you allow…” Legolas was trying to stay calm and not say anything hurtful as seeing his father seemed to be punishing himself enough without his son berating him as well, but he couldn’t help himself.

Thranduil’s face clenched as he berated himself again and again. He shook his head and stood up on his feet while reaching out for his son. He felt a sharp pang of despair when Legolas flinched away from his touch.

“I thought I could control it this time as well,” Thranduil answered weakly. The sudden shift in authority was bewildering but Thranduil knew it well enough that he had committed an act for which he was answerable to his own kin. His face twisted, grief vivid in his eyes as he sought for any kind of approval in his son’s face. Did he understand? He did, hadn’t he? Legolas knew Thranduil would never frolic deliberately! He knew how much he respected elven customs of marriage! He understood, hadn’t he?

With one close glance at his son’s face, Thranduil soon received his answer. No matter how much he tried to hide it, Legolas was disappointed. Thranduil had disappointed him and he could clearly see the wild inner torment his son was facing because of him!

“Forgive me,” he said, suddenly feeling extremely degrading. He had never considered what would happen to his kingdom because of his poor judgement. He had never considered what would happen to his son and the child he carried. The dishonour, the judging looks, the cold whispers—all would ruin their lives. How could he be so foolish!

Legolas saw flash of shame across his father’s features, the guilt and the need for forgiveness clear in his voice…he had actually apologized to his son, he did regret his actions and knew it was wrong which made Legolas regret his own words almost instantly.

“No…don’t apologize. There is no need for that,” Legolas said as he came closer and he wasn’t sure why but he embraced his father, he stiffened a little at the contact but soon relaxed into his arms. “I apologize for my harsh words. I was surprised was all…of course I forgive you it is not my place to pass judgment on my own father and king, everyone can make mistakes.” He pulled away to look at Thranduil. “However, that being said, you should probably contact the father, he needs to know and take responsibility.” Legolas said seeing alarm now cross his father features.

Thranduil calmed down immensely when acceptance shone from Legolas’ face. He felt an immense weight being lifted off from his shoulders when the other approached him. Thranduil was surprised and tensed thusly when he felt arms around him but the very gesture of affection was exactly what he needed. Knowing that his son would be by his side assured him greatly and provided him courage of the days to come. Eventually, he relaxed into the embrace and rested his cheek against the top of Legolas’ head with a small smile at Legolas’ understanding nature and compassion.

Soon after, he felt his son pulling away. Thranduil waited patiently as something seemed to cross Legolas’ mind and when his son decided to utter it, he felt his entire body stiffening immediately. He quickly averted his eyes which felt unnaturally heavy all of a sudden. The familiar pang of guilt and burn of shame was overwhelming him as he struggled to admit the most reprehensible part of this entire ordeal.

He knew he could not keep it to himself. Legolas knew this much. It would be wrong to keep the rest from him. Taking a few deep breaths, Thranduil brought his gaze up again, only to flutter it down back on to the ground. His cheeks burned, his heart raced and when he knew he could stall no more, he spoke the most disgraceful of all confessions, “I...do not know who the father is.”

Legolas blanched at the unexpected answer. How could he not know? How was it possible that he didn’t know who the father was?

“But father, you have to have _some_ idea who it was! I hesitate to say this but you know it is against our customs to mate with anyone without being bonded, that alone is disgraceful enough but to not even know who the father is…there will be talk! It could be forgiven if you were in love and misjudged feelings that can be forgiven, but we have to know who the father is that cannot be forgiven.” Legolas said. “I know how muddled one’s mind becomes while in heat, _think_.” Legolas urged.

Thranduil pitied the poor boy who tried so hard to justify his actions. However when there was none, Thranduil saw his efforts as nothing but futile. He shook his head in empathy for his son, oddly enough when it should have been the other way around.

“I share your concerns Legolas; believe me when I say so.” Legolas stopped his raving and looked up expectantly, hoping for some kind of an answer he sorely needed. There was still belief in his son’s eyes and it was that which truly caused Thranduil pain for what he was about to say. “But I simply haven’t the slightest of ideas. It might be a dwarf.” He paused, refraining from taking any names. Legolas’ features washed over in relief and he was about to offer any piece of advice but his composure faltered instantly when Thranduil raised a hand. “...Or a man...”

Legolas shook his head. “You were with _two_ people?” Legolas said the words to try and make sense of them in his mind; he would have never thought his own father capable of such debauched and shameless behaviour, sleeping with two _separate_ individuals? Legolas tried to make sense of it all but his mind went blank on what to say next as he looked at his father his eyes falling on his father’s stomach next where he knew new life was beginning but he didn’t know how this new life was going to be accepted.

“You know I love you and I will support and accept you regardless of everything, but I cannot guarantee others will…you know this will not go over well with our people.” Legolas responded. “There will be questions and you will need answers…I need answers ada!” Legolas said a desperate need to understand gnawing at his insides.

Thranduil was amazed at how accepting his son was! He simply couldn’t comprehend though it was exactly what he sought at that moment. He couldn’t resist feeling paternal pride welling up inside of him and perhaps it was because of the strength of their bonds that he felt the corner of his eyes beginning to prick.

He gasped, horrified as he realized what he was about to do! Pregnant was one thing, not knowing the father was another but to _cry_? In front of his own son? That was something which was unbearable for Thranduil to think at that moment.

Instantly, his eyes flashed with a passion he didn’t seem to be capable of in his vulnerable state.

“I am King! They answer to _me_!” He growled, instinctively brushing delicate fingers over his stomach. Bright flames danced in his eyes at the very thought of being judged by people of the realm _he_ had established with his own hands alongside his father. If anything, his subjects were the ones answerable to _him_!

However, the feeling soon drained away as the entire chamber started swaying wildly. Thranduil stumbled on his feet but before he could hit the floor, he was swiftly caught by the only other being in that room clutching him like dear life.

Fearfully, he gazed up at Legolas who was equally frightened. Slowly, Thranduil was helped to his feet. He breathed hard, partly out of fear, as he still kept his firm grip on Legolas’ hands. His chest heaved, feeling full and tight. His mouth parted as of to form any kind of word. Legolas leaned in close, frowning and waiting patiently. All of a sudden, Thranduil’s eyes flew open. He felt a rush clambering up his chest and before any of them could react, Thranduil wretched miserably on the floor and on his son, shaking and heaving before one more bout of sickness hit him... _and_ Legolas.

Legolas couldn’t help but jump away releasing his father who fell to the floor still coughing up the reminder of his stomach. Legolas grimaced slightly and tried his best to ignore the incident as he knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault. His father undoubtedly was probably more embarrassed than Legolas. Legolas removed his outer robe thankful that it seemed to be the only piece of clothing messed as he helped his father back to the medical bed as gently as possible. Thranduil looked utterly embarrassed as he refused to meet his gaze once, more avoiding him.

“You’re wrong ada.” Legolas said softly. “I don’t say this to upset you but as King your soul purpose is to answer to your people, you are their servant not the other way around.” He lifted his father’s chin so he would be forced to look at him. “You said it was either a man or a dwarf, contact them both, first and foremost this needs to be done.”

Legolas decided he wouldn't press for names, he would ultimately find out in time anyway so better not further upset his father.

Thranduil trembled partly out of exhaustion and partly because of the foreseeing consequences he knew he’d have to face at one point. He felt his face lifted up, examined critically by the clear blues similar to his own. The gaze was deep, questioning and full of concern, as if he could read Legolas’ mind and hear his unasked queries, pleading Thranduil for any kind of answer. But Thranduil had none. Restlessness and grief settled upon his chest, thickening and tightening with an uncomfortable sensation that ultimately forced Thranduil to look away.

He knew Legolas’ words were true and a time would come when he’d no longer be able to hide his growing child and the stories of its conception. There would be bias. There would be rumours whispering through the halls, spreading like a vine and entwining round his people’s judgement.

Sighing, he decided to heed Legolas’ advice. He asked his son for two pieces of parchment to be left in his chamber.

His fate was doomed but such would not be the case for his children. He would ensure that.

 

***

 

In the study where there was a little light provided by a small lamp, a figure stood quite awaiting the moments before being summoned to his council. He was focused upon an envelope he held in his hand, relayed not too long ago by a dwarf subject. His eyes were still and deep, narrowing with an odd assortment of sentiments as he read the elegant scripture spelling out his name.

He flipped the envelope and keenly looked at the seal which clearly bore the sign of Mirkwood. The sign of the Elvenking.

‘Thorin Oakenshield.’

It had the king’s touch, of that he was sure. From the countless of official letters exchanged between the two realms, he was not unfamiliar with Thranduil’s handwriting. However this time, it felt different. He could tell it was not for business...at least not alone. The lack of formalities and titles in the addressable itself bore a great proof of the unique purpose of the letter.

Though, why Thranduil would choose to communicate with him shortly after their...tryst was something which greatly baffled the dwarf.

Gradually, an urge of simply ripping the letter open was simmering within him. His heart felt light and yet tensed, brewing with conflicting emotions of excitement, anxiety and curiosity as he once more examined the neat elvish script. His fingers twitched, his breathing quickened and the pooling heat and tension he felt in his chest started adding layer after layer upon his heart, pressing it as curiosity filed it up.

Suddenly, he was jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of a light knock upon his door.

“Enter,” he commanded, composure rolling swiftly in his face.

The door opened lightly and his entire demeanour was swept with alertness and light embarrassment when he realized who he had commanded.

“Ah Thorin, you need not knock,” he smiled and chuffed at his king and friend.

“I’d not want to invade privacy Balin,” Thorin greeted back, not missing the light flicker of the other’s eyes which darted at the letter in his hands. Thorin’s eyes hardened as did the hold of the envelope in his hands and at that, Balin’s eyes again fell on his face.

“The councilmen await us and I’d deem it unwise for you to miss the meeting,” Balin heard Thorin speak said, his eyes drifting to take quick glances at the envelope before meeting with Balin’s well practiced nonchalant gaze.

“What is that you hold in your hand?” He asked finally, unable to contain his curiosity any longer and much to Balin’s dismay.

The old dwarf sighed and let out a smile. “Why, tidings from my cousin! It has been long since we exchanged news what with him being in Moria. I know the council seeks us but Thorin, may I plead you to keep them patient for a little while longer? I’m eager to read what my cousin has to say and I am afraid I’ll not be of much help when I’m unsettled and focusing on other things, no matter how trivial it is. I’ll not take long.”

Thorin eyed the other for some while, understanding shining in his gaze before nodding and leaving to head for the council. Balin waited till he was once again the only one in the chamber. He sighed and looked once more at the letter, feeling a heaviness settling upon his chest. He knew what he was about to do was wrong. He knew he had played to his friend’s trust and for that he was ashamed.

He sighed and started opening the letter.

However, he had also come to know that which transpired between Thorin, Bard and Thranduil. And in that light, any personal message from the other realm which came so abruptly was something that Balin needed to see if it was harmful to the realm and its king. He didn’t want his friend hurt as well.

Unfolding it with great haste, he started gliding his eyes over the words that were written. The more he read, his heart felt colder and chest tighter as if a great weight of snow was starting to gather within.

When he was finished reading, he looked up and stared ahead for a little while. His hands were trembling, threatening to drop the piece of parchment as the heartbeat in him grew wilder and wilder with a slow bout of panic.

Finally, he willed out of his startled state and brought the letter and the envelope to the lamp. He took apart the glass that shielded the wick and held the centre of the parchment over it.

Balin watched it burn.

The centre of the letter slowly turned black and eventually began to be eaten away by a gaping hole, the void making the parchment retreat towards its edges with the little flames till there was no traces of any news ever coming from king Thranduil.

The deed done, Balin blew out the lamp and made way for the council. He was guilt ridden for keeping something from his friend. But there were some news which needed the shedding of light and then, there were some those were better off being kept undisturbed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, we hope you all enjoyed chapter 2, comments are greatly appreciated!


	3. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading 'A Hearts Desire' and to all those who have bookmarked, gave us kudos and comment's, thanks so much and enjoy chapter 3!

 

Thranduil stood in his room looking at himself in a full length mirror; it had been a few weeks since he discovered he was with child so he was only about seven weeks along and there really was no difference outwardly to his appearance, although he could still feel it deep inside. He sighed as he looked at himself, it was easy for now to hide his condition his sickness had subsided and his exhaustion had all but faded away and he had resumed all his duties as if nothing was different but this wouldn’t last.

He had been informed that upon the third month, about twelve weeks, he would begin to show visible signs of pregnancy, elves usually carried their children for an entire year before birth but males carried the children for only six months and the child seemed to mature and grow faster within the womb. The form fitting clothing Thranduil usually wore would soon not be conceivable, at that point he would have to say something but he wasn’t sure how. Legolas had been a wonderful support for him but he feared this scandal would damage him in some way, Thranduil knew ultimately this was his fault for if he only had the will power to resist he never would have lain with Bard or Thorin…his thoughts drifted to the letters he had sent out, Bard was quick to react and requested an audience which Thranduil had granted at their earliest convenience. However, there had been no response from Erebor whatsoever, Thranduil could easily understand if Thorin wanted nothing to do with this so he ignored the dull throb in his chest and the slight twist in his stomach when he thought of Thorin…he had to respect his decision even if Thorin was the father of his child, it was still his decision to a part of its life.

Galion knocked softly on the door, making his presence known to the king. The door was only partly closed and even though there was no real need for Galion to knock, he still maintained courtesy. However formality was only a part of his intension. The king had seemed thoughtful, gazing at the mirror but not quite at his own reflection. Rather, he seemed to be searching for something...

What took Galion back was the little startling movement which Thranduil displayed as if Galion was not supposed to be there at all! However, as soon as the blue eyes flickered with bewilderment, they stilled immediately as once more, the lordship radiated from Thranduil.

“The Master of Dale is here, my lord.” Galion spoke quietly, eyes keen and upon the fair face, searching for any traces for something that he felt was feigned by the aura of calmness. There was no such emotion; however, there was something that was different about Thranduil.

Perhaps the way his face *molded* untraceably into some *mask* that had slipped, or maybe it was the miniscule flicker in his gaze which Galion was and was not hesitant to name ‘excitement’ at the very name of the once commoner of ‘Laketown’. Galion’s eyes only refrained from narrowing due to his sheer will power. He realized that he had been staring at Thranduil longer than he should but he hoped that Thranduil would write it off as him expecting an order.

All of a sudden, Galion felt his heart skipping a beat and his eyes growing wide at a new discovery. Thranduil’s eyes…no longer was there coldness of indifference. Even though the king tried his best, his eyes still burned with a brightness and warmth which seemed to add color to his cheeks.

And then the sudden arrival of Bard...

It took Galion all of his strength not to make his discovery apparent to Thranduil but there was no mistake in it! The king was glowing. Noticeably after his return from the Lonely Mountain. While it was a good change to see him embrace the lighter side of life after the sad demise of his wife, it was the abruptness of said change which took Galion by shock and led him to ask one question:

What *had* transpired in Erebor?

When there was none, he backed down and gestured with his hand for the king to follow him.

Thranduil said no word, he simply nodded and went ahead of Galion, who frowned at the king’s actions and followed him to the throne room where Bard was awaiting them.

***

Bard once more found his breath caught in his throat as he stared in wonder at the Elvin King, it was still such a privilege to look upon him. Still as cool and beautiful as he always had been and always will be, as he rode toward Mirkwood he was berating himself for being so foolish and lying with Thranduil at all, but as he looked upon him now he realized that he would never actually regret it. He was not a dishonorable man and would defiantly take responsibility for this in any way Thranduil wished and as he saw Thranduil uncharacteristically fidget …was this cool and confidant Elvin king actually nervous?

Bard was obliged to come after receiving a very strange but somehow compelling letter from Thranduil.

_Master of Dale,_

_I thank you for your receiving of this letter and its personal context. I realize that we have not spoken since our encounter in Erebor and I regrettably did not answer your earlier letter to me so I again thank you. I write to you now humbled by our encounter, as it has affected me much more than I had originally anticipated. While I know that you may find this difficult to believe or even understand, know that I would never quip over such a matter and request you take my words as truth._

_There is a sacred secret and ability that many male elves possess. That ability is called the ontari in which males can have children of their own. I am one among many that have the ability to bear a child. I do apologize for my actions during our time together in Erebor but it seems that I have become with child and while I do not expect anything of you as you have no obligation to me or this child growing inside me I thought I would at least inform you of this as the possibility of you being the father is quite possible._

_As I said before I do not expect anything of you and if you chose to ignore this message I will understand that and take it as a sign that you have no intention of involving yourself which I accept but I do ask that you believe me if nothing else, you are a father so I know you understand the repercussions of this. Think on this matter and please do not act in haste._

_-King Thranduil_

Bard could not ignore such a letter, how could he? But rather than send a reply he wanted to see the Elvin-King for himself and get some more answers to his many questions.

Bard bowed deeply to the King. “I thank you for receiving me King Thranduil, I know my arrival was sudden and I appreciate your courtesy.” He knew why he was here but until Thranduil said otherwise he would keep it to himself.

Despite his cool appearance, Thranduil’s heart was beating wild and erratic with each step he took added to the evidence of just how nervous he truly was. As he walked down the corridor, he felt tension griping his chest and pressing it hard as if wanting to push his heart out. He was well aware of the curious and unwavering gaze he was receiving from Galion and almost cursed himself when he felt his face twitching, desperately fighting against him wanting to break his indifferent façade.

However that was not the only source of his worry. With each painfully measured step, Thranduil felt his heart sinking deeper and deeper in deeps of fear. He was about to meet one who could potentially be the sire of his child. One who had children of his own, a newly formed kingdom of his own and one who was certainly not going to accept and take things in stride.

He had no doubt in his mind that Bard would be shocked...though, what concerned Thranduil gravely was the aftermath of the shock.

Would Bard believe him? Would he be accepted? Was he indeed the father?

He came to a halt upon seeing the form of the man, pacing from one side to another. He stopped when their eyes met, Bard’s own gaze suddenly widening a little with a certain longing which warmed Thranduil from inside but chilled him as well.

He took a moment to compose himself before returning the greeting.

“I am much obliged that you came,” He nodded at Galion and waited till the elf left. As soon as they were alone, Thranduil could no longer keep the anxiety spilling from his gaze as he said, “Please, could we discuss it in my study? It concerns our realms and I would prefer a more comfortable setting.”

Bard simply nodded to the request as his mouth had gone dry as they made their way to a place where they would surely not be disturbed; it was the privacy of the issue that needed to be addressed not the comfortable setting. Once inside Bard realized it was Thranduil private study, this room was directly connected to Thranduil’s bedroom chamber which actually put Bard at a little more ease knowing that no one would enter without direct approval…they were perfectly alone and would not be troubled by unwanted guests.

“I know you didn’t ask me to come, but I thought it prudent.” He said diverting his gaze from Thranduil, his mouth felt so dry. “Could I trouble you for something to drink?” He asked, normally he wouldn’t have been so presumptuous nor ask a fellow king but he was nervous.

Thranduil waved his hand, silently pleading Bard to discard all of the formality which was nothing but added burden at that point. Wordlessly, he brought glass full of wine from a nearby table and handed it to Bard before sitting down across him.

For a while, none of them exchanged any words. Thranduil, worried how to arrange them and Bard apparently readying himself with huge gulps of the liquor.

Deciding there was no better way, Thranduil addressed it directly, “I am pregnant.”

He opened his mouth, trying to explain more but words grossly fell short and Thranduil was left peering at Bard’s face with desperation and helplessness, silently asking the man to provide any advice to offer as he had none for himself.

When the man said nothing, Thranduil pressed on, growing more and more frantic as he did. “I am not bonded. My people—they—we do not *frolic* and here I am with the outcome of my foolish action and not knowing who the sire is!”

His tone was shaking, diminished to a nervous rasp as once more his chest was cold with dread. “It shall not be long before I show. I can’t stay here for much longer.”

He winced involuntarily at the sight of Bard’s eyes narrowing as if he was in pain. As for Thranduil himself, his heart started racing once more, the tips of his ears started getting warmer and nervousness swirled in his chest and mind, almost making it hard for him to breathe.

Bard frowned at the words Thranduil spoke, “You must understand that this is a lot to take in at one time…” he said shaking his head. “If you do not “frolic” then why did you? I realize I was flirting with you but I had barely even begun before you instigated much of what transpired between us…you had to know the consequences thusly why would you do such a thing?” Bard said seeing the pained expression on Thranduil’s face.

Bard softened a little. “I am merely trying to understand why…I don’t care how, that no longer matters for it is done and cannot be undone.” He took a step closer to the Elvin King his focus on his face before looking down at his stomach. Bard felt an urge inside him to touch Thranduil, when his wife was with child she held this radiating glow and warmth and he could see the same light in Thranduil, he could only hear honesty in Thranduil’s words which forced him to believe, but he still needed to know why.

A cold stab was no more hidden when Thranduil’s face twisted with agony by Bard’s words. It wasn’t the false accusations which stung him but the lack of any which shook him to the core. How could he explain to someone who was barely grasping the fact that he could be and was with child!

Suddenly, grief was overshadowed by a strange sense of pride and protectiveness as Thranduil flared up and narrowed his eyes at Bard. “If it no longer matters, then why *do* you seek an understanding?”

It angered him to think that the man was calling him a liar! It angered him that Bard had come all the way simply to throw quips at him when he was offering nothing but the truth!

“Though it doesn’t concern you but simply to quench your audacious curiosity, I will answer.” He spoke with a rough tone and a heated glare. “We elves are *blessed* with annual heat cycles when we are driven by our bodies and muddled minds. For years, I have endured it and even was successful in resisting myself. Unfortunately, this time I was in Erebor and Erebor had too many dominant males, *two* of which would relentlessly try and bed me with blatant seduction!”

Bard’s gaze was unwavering and as he ghosted towards Thranduil and set his attention upon his womb, Thranduil felt his anger well up even more and a sudden surge of simply letting the man feel his child ruled him. If only to make him believe!

Moments after the thought, Thranduil gasped, horrified of what he realized.

He wasn’t truly angry because Bard was ‘insulting’ him! He was desperate! It was that very desperation of wanting a support that drove him to fight Bard’s ignorance with every bit of his energy till the other would see what the reality was.

He looked up at the other, eyes big and fearful, shining with the vulnerable emotions Thranduil felt inside of him as they searched restlessly for any sign of acceptance in Bard’s face. As if that really mattered to him the most. As if that could validate his action and the conception of his child when it very well could not be fathered by Bard. It was that which tugged his heart. It was that which hurt him when he found any lack of interest from Erebor. From Thorin.

With another realization, Thranduil felt his heart sink.

He was not only desperate. He was afraid and he tried his best to cling to any form of support he could get and it was that very thought which drove him to the brink of shame, guilt and franticness.

Bard allowed Thranduil’s words to sink in as he watched a flood of emotions cross his features. The strong Elvin King he barely knew but had come to respect looked so vulnerable and afraid it tugged at Bard’s heart seeing him as he was now, he looked near tears in silent desperation and Bard wanted to comfort him somehow but he was unsure on how to do so. He unconsciously reached out and cupped the elf’s cheek which seemed to startle the elf but surprisingly enough he seemed to relax into the touch regardless.

“I do believe you, and I’m sorry that this has caused you such distress…I was not my intention to have you think I wouldn’t believe, it’s simply a lot to take in.” He brushed his thumb across Thranduil’s cheek gently as he for a moment allowed himself to enjoy the feel of the other; he was still so soft and warm to the touch. “You didn’t ask anything of me in your letter but there must be something I can do, if it truly is my child I will take responsibility I…I would never want you to take upon this task alone.” He said sincerely watching as a sense of relief seemed to roll off the other and he relaxed even more.

“May I ask what Thorin’s response was?” Bard said after a moment feeling Thranduil tense up immediately at the mention of the dwarf King.

Before Thranduil could resist, he felt the warmth of palms beside his face, and at that moment, whatever apprehension Thranduil had been feel, whatever sense of doubt had been festering in him simply seemed to wash away as Bard provided the support he desperately craved. Instinctively, he leaned against the touch, gaze softening as a profound amount of relief washed over him.

“You believe me,” he repeated though mostly for himself, letting it sink in that at least someone trusted him. His lips curled ever so slightly and he sighed at the gentle caress he felt on his cheek. The calmness evaporated away all so abruptly at the very mention of Thorin Oakenshield causing Thranduil’s glare to blaze up like a newly lit flame.

That name! That wretched name!

Thranduil hadn’t realized how much the indifference of the dwarf affected him until then. His heart wrenched and throbbed with an agonizing burn as rage filled in.

He drew away from the touch and pushed Bard away as he grit his teeth, swearing to incarcerate the man with his glare alone.

For a great while longer, he simply heaved, breathing hard and hoping to ease the storm within him. At last, he clenched his teeth and spat out, “Erebor gave no response.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously, a snarl forming on his lips along with a bruise in his ego. He was vulnerable but he loathed the idea of being painted as a rejected fool, cast aside as if he was no more than a common whore never to be dealt with.

Bard wasn’t expecting the sudden rise in anger Thranduil displayed his mood went from fearful to clam then to anger in a split second and it was trying to keep up with him. Although he could understand Thranduil’s anger if nothing else Erebor could have at least written back, ignoring the situation was not admirable and if Thorin wanted nothing to do with Thranduil so be it but the child…he owed it to the child to at least make the attempt. Bard could see the anger clearly masking the embarrassment that the elf must be feeling from the blatant rejection from Thorin by not even responding, he wanted to comfort him…every time pain flashed in his face, every time that vulnerable and upset expression sneaked across his features it filled Bard with an unexplainable protectiveness toward Thranduil, Bard wasn’t sure if he had always felt this way or if the fact that Thranduil might be carrying his child was the cause. He wasn’t sure what bravery settled into his mind and heart but he pulled Thranduil into a warm embrace.

“Do not worry, if he thinks it right to ignore you then allow him that foolishness and give him never another thought; he does not deserve to stir such a strong emotion in you.” Bard said pleased that after a moment of tension Thranduil seemed to be relaxing once more, he seemed to need this support and Bard felt obliged to give it to him. “What do you need? Would it put your people at ease if I was by your side? I’m not asking you to bond with me but there must be something I can do.”

Thranduil’s body tensed when he felt an arm coil around him, pulling it towards another steady frame and holding him tight against it. He was about to protest but somehow, the warmth radiating from Bard, the gentle breathing brushing against his cheek and skin had a strange soothing effect upon Thranduil. Gradually, his muscles relaxed and an arm came up, fingers delicately settling on Bard’s heart as Thranduil nestled against the embrace. Under normal circumstances, he would not hesitate to twist Bard’s arm for ever trying to touch him...however, the situation was far from normal.

Thranduil needed support. He needed a friend and Bard was the closest option he had at that moment. “What do I want...” He thought deeply over Bard’s words. Truly in all the madness, he hadn’t clearly thought about what he wanted from Bard. Up till that moment, he had only one purpose in mind: informing his lovers. He hadn’t expected anyone to respond or take him seriously. However, when one did, Thranduil was at a loss. He felt warmth flooding him, his heart beat calming down to a gentle rhythm as something in his stomach fluttered in relief.

“I do not know what to do,” finally he admitted with a soft whisper.

Bard allowed himself to enjoy having Thranduil in his arms once more, the scent of his hair the touch of his skin. He remembered their time in Erebor vividly, and it actually pained him slightly to know that the intimate and blissful night they shared wasn’t because Thranduil wanted *him* but more of an instinctual urge…it was never really about him, even now it wasn’t really about him but the life inside Thranduil he might of fathered. Thranduil never answered his previous letters, he only wrote Bard because he needed something, Bard could feel the prick of insult but tried his best to push it down, regardless of how selfish Thranduil’s behavior was Bard knew deep down it wasn’t intentional.

Bard leaned closer to Thranduil allowing his lips to brush the delicately pointed ear as he spoke ever so softly to him, much the same way he did their one time together. “There must be something.” He said.

Thranduil’s chest started heaving with rapidly swelling breaths. He tipped his head very slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt light touches of Bard’s lips on his hair, ears, his cheeks and finally n his lips, making him shudder.

“Shelter, perhaps?” Quietly he pleaded.

His hand resting on Bard’s chest twitched slightly before laying flat with the hilts of his palm pressing against it. A sense of security covered him, rousing up a fluttering heat in his heart which was beginning to flow to every corner and fiber of his being.

Without thinking much, Thranduil let his body respond by tilting his head upwards. His hand began caressing Bard’s chest, travelling to his shoulder and biceps as slowly he leaned in and moved his lips in a cautious manner, tasting the feel of air when Bard moved away a moment later. He whimpered very softly, a light frown puckering on his forehead as he leaned further against the man. He could only gasp with surprise mixed satisfaction when without any warning; his mouth was locked by another, drawing him into the other’s arms as Bard’s lips undulated up and down against his own.

“Whatever you want…” He responded just as softly before claiming Thranduil’s lips once more.

When Thranduil responded to Bards advanced it caused his heart to swell, their first time was about nothing but a primal hunger and need that burned inside both of them but for this moment Bard wanted it to be different with him this time. Bard was not a fling not a tryst to fade away into Thranduil’s past like a puff of breath against a pane of glass, he was more than that and he wanted Thranduil to accept him to look at him and say his name he wanted this ethereal creature to acknowledge him.

The feel of his soft hands running along his arms and lithe body leaning closer to him cause a burning heat to pool between Bards legs and stomach a burning desire not only for Thranduil but the desperate need to be accepted by him, he pulled away from the intoxicating kiss and looked intently into Thranduil’s eyes.

“Tell me now…” Bard began as he moved forward forcing Thranduil to go backward until he hit the desk behind him. “This.” He said kissing him passionately. “This is not another pitch for you, that you see me here and now with you.” He grasped Thranduil between his legs and began to rub the growing arousal. “If you need me here with you if you actually intend to acknowledge me then I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and protected.” He said claiming his lips once more.

Thranduil was panting heavily, letting out a moan when Bard pulled away. The warmth in him was growing more and more, blatant with the need of strong hands around him, caring for him, supporting him and accepting him.

His feet moved as Bard pushed him, only stopping at the feel of the wooden desk at his back. His mind fuddled, eyes brimming with emotions he long kept hidden ever since the fateful day in Erebor came spilling out all of a sudden, making his heart wrench and tug in an undefined yearning which was simmering within him.

He fluttered his lids and looked up at the strong face and into the eyes...they were passionate, deep and dark, probing straight into him and shaking him to his core with such a force that left him weak and fragile.

He opened his mouth to respond although his mind was slowly crossing into the murky waters of incoherence as pleasure began spanning its arms within him. But before he could answer, he felt Bard’s lips on his own once more. Thranduil inhaled and pulled the man closer, tipping his head and letting his lips be licked before he opened them and allowed Bard the invitation he sorely craved.

With the feel of a cool tip against his own tongue, a shiver ran down Thranduil’s spine, making him widen his legs and buck his hips, shuddering all the more as his member came in contact with Bard’s stout body.

The kiss ended, leaving Thranduil writhing in agony. Pleasure was pooling in between his legs, his member beginning to throb in delight at the smallest of touches and brushes against fabric and muscles. He gasped when a hand slid in between his breeches and over his arousal, simply holding it making it pang with pleasure and a swelling urge, before starting to massage it slowly.

“I need to keep the child safe,” he managed to whisper in between wild rasps and heaves, pressing himself more against the man’s hand as his whole body titillated with extreme sensitivity. Slowly, the face before him was blurring as lust began invading his senses. Little by little, Thranduil’s focus hazed from all except the sharp eyes which were gazing into his own, burning with sentiments and passion, the same he had seen many nights ago.

Bard realized that Thranduil had yet to actually answer his question but disregarded it for the time being, he seemed unable to resist the silent wanting in Thranduil’s eyes as he looked at him with those stunning lapis blue eyes clouded by lust…if nothing else at least Thranduil was with him now and no one else. Even with his current condition he seemed willing to this and Bard although considerate enough was simply not strong enough to deny himself the option to hold this heavily creature once more. He had promised to support Thranduil in his time of need, to keep this child safe which he would do to the best of his ability, but the how could wait for another time, the now was consuming all other thoughts.

Bard let out a heavy breath when Thranduil pressed himself harder against him, almost mewling in desperation wanting more, the sound drifting into his ears and tickling his neck as heavy breaths brushed across his skin in waves only further tantalizing his senses and intoxicating him more than any wine or ale could do.

Thranduil’s pants became wilder and burning with want. He bent up, claiming Bard’s mouth hungrily, trailing his lips along the man’s cheek to the tip of an ear. Incoherency quickly rolling over his senses, Thranduil moaned at the passion reeling off from the other, doubled in his mind than in reality, making his body react to it ferociously as it had done so many nights ago in the fated encounter back in Erebor, the result of which he now bore.

At the feel of a hard warm arousal prodding his thighs, Thranduil’s legs spread on their own, his body rocking in gentle sways to an unheard rhythm while he started getting invaded with pleasure. The initial contact caused him to throw his head back and hiss at a burning sensation streaming through his passage. However, the heat of the irritation soon faded away and quickly spread to every inch of his body from legs up to his chest, tossing and turning his brain with no other senses but ecstasy and pleasure.

He began rocking harder maintaining his graceful sways which gradually increased in tempo as did his heaved breaths. With every thrust, he felt the arousal digging deeper in him, the pain searing with pleasure and the throb between his legs growing hotter and agonizing, wanting for a release against the fast strokes over it.

Words fell from his mouth in his own tongue, rasping and encouraging for more while the cloud which hung in his mind now thickened and took over every cranny of his head, filling it with lust, need and a desperate want. At that point, he did not care if it was Bard or Thorin or anybody. He already had one face imagined strongly—only one which floated before his eyes as his lips were kissed harshly again and again and again. The strong set of jaws, the deep and prominent dark eyes were all that he could see as the rest of the face was in a blur like being in a dream. He did not care if it was an enemy or friend. All he cared was the wild passion which was burning in him and the erotic sweetness overtaking him the more he dwelt upon his hazed vision.

The moment was near. His breaths were hard and hot, his body shimmered with sweat, the pained pressure in between his legs growing hotter and sharper, his passage searing and full. Slowly, his body was becoming rigid as he was on the edge of a climax. His eyes began to roll back, his legs started twitching, his pants faster and faster. Thranduil’s entire body shivered as a powerful orgasm took him over. He threw his head back, screaming out dazed words in relief as his warm seeds trickled past his thighs.

The eagerness that Thranduil displayed actually surprised Bard a little more than he cared to admit, not enough to make him take a moment’s pause for he feared that if he slowed down or stopped the moment would disappear just as quickly and he simply couldn’t allow that however, it did make him wonder for a moment. The heat that came off of Thranduil’s body seared his skin and with it mingling with his own had them both panting, their bodies began sweat from the combined heat and Bard could wait no longer to feel himself inside Thranduil once more.

It was quick, he didn’t take his time as he was more accustomed to, under normal circumstances he would take his time to carefully prepare his lover and engage in foreplay but the pace was being more onset by Thranduil and Bard thought it best to follow his lead and he wanted it immediately almost in a hurried fashion and Bard obliged him entering him quickly and setting up a fast pace almost immediately, his concern for injuring Thranduil forgotten in the wild frenzy of their actions.

He loved the feel of Thranduil’s body wrapped around him so tightly, his arms reaching for him and hugging him close at times he could feel the thrum of Thranduil’s heartbeat beating against his own chest. He was still so beautiful, his body slightly slickened by sweat making him shine and his hazed lapis blue eyes staring into his own as their bodies met thrust for thrust. He felt Thranduil’s body go ridged in his arms before as a cry of release spilled from the kiss swollen lips and spilled between them which sent Bard also tumbling over the edge allowing himself to spill inside Thranduil’s body once again that connection being more satisfying than before as it was only him this time.

Thranduil’s body was limp in his arms as he looked upon the exhausted elf as he leaned forward pressing a gently kiss to his lips which was lazily returned. Bard for a moment just gazed at him, imprinting this image of Thranduil in his mind to call upon later in memory. He glanced at Thranduil’s neck and he remembered vividly having marked this elf, however the mark had healed as there was not even the faintest remainder that it had ever been done in the first place and for some reason to another it irritated him that elf’s healed so fast…although easily remedied. He leant forward more and bit into Thranduil’s neck harshly breaking the skin making Thranduil gasp and try to pull away although Bard held him tight and continued to bite and suck upon the flesh until he was satisfied the mark would last for some time before he would need to do so again. If this child was indeed his he wanted no other to touch Thranduil, at least for this time Thranduil would belong to him…he would make sure of that.

Still in the afterglow of his orgasm, Thranduil’s haze was fading gently and his senses started becoming more and more prominent. He felt the pressing of lips against his own; he felt the move and himself did the same almost mindlessly as if it was the natural thing to do at that point. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel right.

He moved his face away upon feeling the tip of a tongue at the junction of his lips. A hand lightly held his chin and tried to draw him in for another kiss but once again, Thranduil retreated much to the other’s dismay.

The haze of lust was swiftly clearing away. His senses and sensibilities were returning fast, breaking the incoherent veil shrouded over his heart and mind. He frowned, confused of his feelings and doings, trying to understand his surroundings and company. When he did, realization flashed in his eyes and he quickly sat up, shaking his head and berating himself for such act of foolishness.

He hadn’t been thinking right and it was his thoughtlessness due to which he was now with a child of a father among two potential people whom he had bedded over and over again at Erebor. He thought his heat cycle was over. He thought its traces would be nonexistent or existing with very little power. He truly believed he had it under control after so many weeks. He thought he would not lose his mind and let his body satisfy its needs!

And here he was just realizing his thoughtlessness. He needed someone, true. He should’ve been glad that Bard was coming forth with his *generous* support...but Thranduil knew it was not right, this was not what he wanted. Or perhaps, it wasn’t the act but the company. Whatever it was, he felt uneasy. It felt *wrong*!

He looked at the other in front of him and became tensed almost immediately when his eyes landed upon Bard’s dark and hungry ones, which were staring brazenly at his throat.

Thranduil’s browed quivered into a frown. His mouth was beginning to form a snarl just as his heart started filling up with guilt and anger. He looked at his side, cussing mentally as he noticed himself still entrapped between Bard’s arms before he looked back up again only to have his heart beat faster as Bard started to lean in.

“No,” Thranduil whispered, vainly placing his palm atop Bard’s chest, hoping that Bard would get the message. However, the man showed no such indication. He leaned closer, almost over-powering Thranduil’s half-hearted resistance and before Thranduil could utter a single word, he yelped and gasped at a pinching feeling at his throat.

His eyes flew open in alarm and instantly, Thranduil applied pressure to Bard’s chest, pushing him away enough for him to pull back and step away from the man. But Bard quickly closed the distance once again and bit down on Thranduil’s throat so hard that the Elvin King was unable to keep a whimper from escaping.

It was so passionate and territorial—something which should’ve flattered Thranduil in his time of dire need but instead, all it incurred was confusion, berating and panic within him. He felt wrong, this all felt wrong. Thranduil was in need of support, in need of a friend but he was certainly not in need of a mate nor was he trying to gain one!

In an instant, he straightened and sat up, shoving Bard hard away from him and while the man recovered from his perplexed state, Thranduil quickly got down from the table and backtracked a few steps before standing still with a blazing glare directed at the other.

“No!” He said in a cruel whisper, panting hard. “This was not why I summoned you and I will not have you making unwanted opportunities.” He noticed Bard’s face falling and disappointment covering every inch of his face and eyes. He didn’t even blame the man for potentially thinking him as someone who used others when to suited him. But Thranduil had no choice. He had to make his point clear and the sooner the better.

However, Thranduil decided to pay no notice of it. His glare emblazoned when the man wanted to approach him but when Bard noticed his apprehension and decided to fall back, Thranduil’s glare leveled.

“I realize your sentiments Master of Dale but honestly, I can’t allow myself to consider them as validated when it is uncertain who the father of my child is. I understand you can’t bond with me for obvious reasons nor do I want you to. It will only flare up scandals and it will make both of lives that much difficult. What I want from you is aid and support to assist me out of Mirkwood when I start to show. This is all I need. Nothing more. Forgive me for giving you false allusions,” he added and then he turned and strode past the other.

Bard shook his head his own anger flared up for an instant at Thranduil’s words. “False…” He repeated trailing off somewhat before he began to redress, a little rough in his movements due to the harsh words from Thranduil. Bard immediately felt foolish for allowing himself to be once again swayed by Thranduil’s natural seduction and sex appeal, it was almost the same as the night in Erebor and that was not what Bard wanted.

“Is that all I am to you? I realize that you honestly have no romantic interest in me but consider for a moment that the child is mine, what then? Do you intend to cast me aside so carelessly when the child is born, and considering Erebor does not even dignify this situation with a response I might be the only father this child will ever know.” He locked eyes with Thranduil. “I will help you as you have asked but you will not treat me as some bystander with no interest, I am more than that…regardless of how you feel about me I at least deserve your respect I am not going to allow you to simply use me and forget me.” He said walking up to Thranduil glad that for once Thranduil was looking at him, not past him or the implications of what Bard could do for him, he was actually looking at him.

Bard broke their gaze. “I’ll see what I can do about making arrangements for you, I cannot bring you to Dale the Elvin King of Mirkwood would cause enough of an uproar without the knowledge of you being with child…you need someplace quite and a little more private, more accepting.” Bard said

Thranduil turned sharply on his heels and hissed, “And what makes you so sure that I would want Erebor to dignify this situation?” he quickly covered the distance between them and glared hard inches away from Bard’s face, “What makes you think that I will not name the child after a fallen lover with whom I am supposedly bonded? Tell me Master of Dale, what had you in mind? That you will walk in and declare before the newly formed realm of your tryst with an elf? Tell me how that will not incur the wrath of the people and tell me how your own children will not be shamed by their father’s foolishness when he admits to father a child illegitimately?”

He paused and searched for any form of sign in Bard’s eyes without wavering his firm gaze. When Bard’s stare faltered and the fire in it subsided, Thranduil stepped back and said, this time more gently, “If it was in my power, I’d not have done what I did in this study not a moment ago. I’d not have done what I did in Erebor. Do you realize that? I only wanted both of you to know what has happened not because I expected any of you to name the child after your house. I expected decency and a little help, I suppose. And I’m glad you’ve shown that.”

He paused for a greater length this time, simply staring and observing the other. If there was a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes, Thranduil decided to hide it. He relaxed when Bard finally spoke.

“I trust you to make the necessary arrangements,” he said quietly, “And you’re not a bystander. You are the closest to an ally whom I can trust. Thank you.”

With that, he left, soon followed by Bard.

***

A slender form quietly hid away in the shadows, pressing himself against the wall as two forms went past him. His keen eyes followed their movements and stared long and hard at their retreating backs, narrowing dubiously at his king.

There were words spoken which he heard. There were secrets that he had come to know and from what he had heard, he fell in the clutches of fear and panic for the anarchy which was about to set in their realm.

Without a word, the elf left and started making way towards his chamber.

All of this had to be uprooted before there was chaos. And for that if Galion had to adapt crueler means, then so be it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and always responded to!


	4. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 4

Bard watched Thranduil silently as he went about his daily routine, he still tended to oversleep not to mention his occasional outbursts at the slightest provocation, and he was defiantly more irritable than usual and somewhat temperamental. It wasn’t honestly a bad thing it was just the course of his pregnancy but the problem was that if Bard noticed he was sure others did as well, if Thranduil truly wished to keep this a secret so be it, but he wasn’t handling it very well. Bard noticed the curious and concerned glances directed toward Thranduil on numerous occasions and actually concerned Bard enough to seek Thranduil out later in private.

“I think you should leave earlier than you intend to…the sooner the better.” Bard said, he still felt protective of Thranduil and didn’t want rumors or concern to expose Thranduil or himself. His reputation was not his main concern it was actually the child which he was most concerned with.

***

Once in the safe vicinity of his chambers, Thranduil couldn’t resist taking a seat and placing his legs up a footrest. He sighed, commanding to enter when he knew it was Bard knocking at his door.

The man provided no context and came straight to the point, which immediately caught Thranduil’s attention. He stared long at the man, almost as if in a trance, he himself deliberated what his next course of action should be.

Finally, he looked away and down at his stomach, idly placing a hand on it and said, “They are starting to wonder.”

It wasn’t even a question. Thranduil was well aware of his volatile mood and also his lack of control on it. He was not ignorant. He had seen questioning faces whenever he stretched on his throne, his hand itching to be placed where his child was growing. And he could only blame his weariness on politics for so long.

His thoughts were broken once more by the sound of steps as Bard circled around him and halted till he was standing in front of Thranduil. Thranduil looked up with indifference in his eyes but even for the smallest of moments, before the mask could be well placed on his face, there was a small window when panic shadowed his face and fear shone in his eyes.

Perhaps Bard had noticed for he softened visibly, almost wanting to provide Thranduil words of advice but not finding the encouragement.

“How soon can I leave?” He asked in a tone which failed perfection at the end when it trembled with his fears, “I would need time to finish explaining the affairs of the realm to my son.”

“Can it be done in the next few days?” Bard asked as he saw a look of confusion cross across the features of Thranduil in probably due to his tone. “I meant to tell you, my arrangements for you have been somewhat hindered, and while I know you won’t like it I do have a temporary solution.” Bard paused for a moment letting his nerves clam a little not wanting for Thranduil to lose his temper with him.

“I sent a letter a week past to Erebor, I requested to have a meeting with the King concerning international relations, a meeting of diplomacy noting more was revealed…not even your involvement. You should accompany me there unannounced, regardless of the disrespect toward Erebor he would be hard pressed to turn you away.” He saw anger flash in Thranduil’s eyes but before he could speak Bard continued. “I know your feelings about this, but staying here much longer is not an option and my efforts have not been successful as of yet, I need more time and until then Erebor would be safe for you…and although I know you do not wish to have contact with them, it might be good to speak with King Thorin directly.” Bard said searching Thranduil’s face.

Thranduil couldn’t help but narrow his eyes with questions when Bard started to speak but the more he did, the confusion washed away, replaced by fires of rage and disgust which shone behind his scorning glare. His face became hard as stone, his eyes sharp and threatening, wanting nothing more than to kill Bard in the most painful way imaginable for just bringing up a name as foul as Thorin Oakenshield. He remained silent for a great while. The very mention of Erebor caused his nostrils to flare, his face to tremble and his hands to clutch into tight fists, shaking to throttle the life out of the man.

Finally, taking uncountable number of breaths, he spoke through gritted teeth, “You’d be many a thing Master of Dale but your daftness surpasses them all.” His lips curled to a sneer and the words which left his mouth were harsh and rough and no less venomous, “If you’re selective memory serves you selectively, then you’d remember that I did speak with the king directly and have received a clear message of his thoughts upon the matter.”

Bard began to clarify himself but Thranduil raised a hand and stood up, glaring sternly into the other’s eyes, determined to burn him alive if he took it further. “So careful you are that you ask me to beg for aid in the halls of the one who refused me any to begin with and expect not to be thrown out in the cold once more after he rejects any prospect of involvement. Is that what you came up with so brilliantly? Then I must say I pity your realm.”

Bard took a calming breath, Thranduil’s anger and short fuse was not limited toward his subjects and unfortunately Thranduil had no reason to conceal anything when with Bard as he had to contain himself with others. Bard realized most of what Thranduil said was not personal despite the implication, so he took a few deep breaths to keep himself in check.

“I would never dream of you asking Erebor for any type of aid, least of all King Thorin, however diplomacy guarantees you a moment respite in his realm regardless of personal feelings. And you sent a letter to him, probably quite the same as the one I received and I was tempted to cast it aside, I wanted to hear it from your lips personally…this is your only option right now despite how you feel about it.” Bard paused a moment. “You’ve told me countless times how you feel about Erebor, I know, you think I would have even suggested it if there was another way?” Bard asked.

“No you would hope me begging it!” Thranduil was now trembling violently with anger, trying very hard not to shout at the top of his lungs or behead the one daring to stand before him. “And here again you stand with nothing but crooked, foolish logic with which you mean to arrange for my safety and run a kingdom successfully! Such a letter would surely cause a favorable reaction and he would surely want an audience with me or at least write back, demanding an explanation. That he didn’t show the level of his interest and that you failed to grasp this simple concept shows the level of your wisdom!”

He straightened up, towering over Bard, making him feel every bit of the helpless mortal he is as he went on in an acidic tone, “Hear me well for I will say this once. Under no circumstances, as long as I am of sound body and mind, will I ever set foot in the halls of a coward and a prude. Do I make myself clear?”

He waited and scowled till Bard’s reluctant confirmation was received, before he strode out of his chamber. How he wished for a cup of wine at that moment!

“Sound body and mind indeed.” Bard growled under his breath.

***

 

Galion watched as Thranduil stormed from his own room walking hurriedly through the corridors, he didn’t seem to have a general direction so Galion followed behind; he was close but not too close, not wishing to alert Thranduil of his presence just yet. He didn’t like how things were progressing with his King, he still held Thranduil in high regard but his respect was wavering, not to mention his own exhausting attempts to dismiss others whispers and rumors of his peculiar behavior. Others knew something was amiss with their King but Galion thus far had been able to stop any accusations before they started…he had actually been trying to protect him, it was exhausting and Galion was at his breaking point.

Galion saw Thranduil enter one of the libraries as he followed him inside and instantly bowed to Thranduil once he was noticed. Galion was thankful the study was blessedly free of others and he saw nt others in the near vicinity so this was the perfect opportunity he had been waiting for.

“My King, I must speak with you…” He began wishing to take pause and reflect before he spoke again, he wanted to gauge Thranduil’s mood first.

“Unless it is a life or death situation, I should hope it can wait till tomorrow,” he answered as coolly as he could and yet, his coolness bordered coldness and with the slightest of nudges, Thranduil knew and feared that his forced composure would be shattered to dust.

And his volatile attitude would not escape anyone’s attention...especially not Galion. He couldn’t afford to be careless.

“This cannot wait.” Galion said cautiously walking toward him. “Your…behavior as of late is cause for concern among your advisors, the council can be worse than a gossip ring at times and while I have been able to settle their concerns for the most part it’s not something I can keep up forever…” Galion looked at Thranduil intently. “You are good at secrets my lord, but I can tell what ails you.” He said the hidden meaning in his words telling Thranduil that he knew.

Thranduil stared at Galion, not blinking and not being able to comprehend momentarily what he was having to hear. When he did, his shock was overridden by fumes of rage and despite everything he had to remind himself before acting rash; Thranduil found his blood boiling at the very implication of what he thought to be a threat. In a flash, his fiery gaze met the other’s shocked one while he responded, “Oh do you now? Dare say what ails me Galion for even an elfling barely out of his mother’s lap can say it is stress of ruling a kingdom.”

He released Galion and stepped back all the while keeping his glare strong and intimidate. He realized he should have stopped talking after getting his point across but something in his heart probed him to go further. The rush in his blood was too great at the very prospect of him being threatened and the fire in his heart was spreading wildly as he suddenly realized how his child was apparently threatened as well.

His eyes flashed, rage fuming in his heart as his jaws tightened, grinding against each other to keep himself from killing the other.

“Quite often it is those who try and settle rumors are the ones who stir it,” he went on, his level of tone slowly rising as did the pace of his beating heart. “And when dealt with the tact of the likes of you, I shall not be surprised if I hear such disgracing rumors. And what was that? You lecture me on my behavior? You lecture me on my ailment? Since when have butlers started becoming healers? Since when have their heads been so swollen to speak of their kings IN SUCH MANNER?”

At last, he could hold himself no more. His composure broke as did his feeling of safety.

Galion glared at him, his eyes dangerously dark as was his mood, he was not a child Thranduil was but a few years ahead of him in age and regardless of their obvious difference in rank he still deserved some regard. “Do you not understand that I have been trying to protect you?” He growled angry with Thranduil for dismissing him heartlessly when he had been trying to help.

“You are such a fool, you accuse me and ridicule me when your own actions a far worse than mine, you find yourself in bed with two partners and not a one of them an elf or a bonded mate…you tell me who is the worse in this situation!?” Galion said letting Thranduil know he knew the details of Thranduil’s shame.

Galion without thinking advanced on Thranduil before he could react pushing him against the nearby wall hard one hand encircling his throat to cut off any sharp remarks, the other hand he placed firmly upon Thranduil’s stomach adding pressure. “You know that this can ruin everything, everything your father and you have strived for and built with your sweat and blood, and your son will bear the shame as keenly as you if this is found out…” he licked his lips his mouth having gone dry.

“I can stop it…” He said adding more pressure to Thranduil’s abdomen. “It wouldn’t take much and everything can go back to the way it was, I can extinguish this light…” Galion said seeing true fear in Thranduil’s eyes.

Thranduil was startled extremely at the bitter tone Galion had used but what really took him off guard was the bitter truth his tone spewed, scorching him with all the shame and guilt he had confined within himself.

Within moments, the distance between them lessened and yet Galion didn’t stop. He hurled towards Thranduil with rage in his eyes, pressing him further and further, making his feet stumble backwards as iron like hands gripped him rough and tight.

Thranduil struggled and fought against the uncanny strength his butler was displaying all of a sudden but his eyes widened in pure horror when his back had touched a wall and he realized how cornered he truly was.

“You foolish—“ he choked on his words immediately as Galion had his hand around Thranduil’s throat. Thranduil’s hand instinctively reached up and curled around Galion’s grip, trying his best to push the elf away but at that point, all of his strength seemed to fail him for the elf didn’t cease nor did he show any hint of ceasing.

Thranduil tried shifting his body but the more he did the tighter the squeeze on his throat became, making him stop eventually and look up at the other which only instilled fear in him.

Galion’s eyes were dark and ominous. Hatred blazed through them, wanting to burn Thranduil alive.

Panic began filling his heart. He released one of his hands and felt the wall, vainly hoping to find any form of weapon that could pry Galion away. His breaths became he labored and he heaved more and more. His lungs started to burn as they started exhausting their share of air.

Suddenly, he felt an odd pressure against his stomach as Galion’s words floated in his ears. The words hurt him like ice, the squeeze on his neck was now agonizing, his pants became rougher and harsher, apparent that he craved for air and the pressure on his womb grew more and more as if supporting Galion’s entire weight upon itself. As if he wanted to—

Thranduil’s heart stopped at the sudden realization that numbed his bones and chilled his blood. And when Galion spoke of it, whatever brave front he had been putting up crumbled away instantly as his orbs shone with a cold horror.

They would murder his child! They would take the life of his child and if Thranduil didn’t co-operate, they would do so by killing him!

He tried screaming but his voice betrayed him, allowing only muffled chokes to escape. Galion was still speaking. The fire in his eyes burning brighter than ever but Thranduil could no longer look at it. His lungs were burning; his body was shaking and as the last of his air was leaving him his entire world centered down to only one thing—his child. He had to save it any cost!

Gradually, his breaths grew long and drawn, the world around him unstable and hazed. It was certain...he would die then and there, at the hands of his butler and his child with him. He would die...

However, there was something that refused him to give up so easily. A nagging thought, a little voice which urged him to fight, to survive. To kill the one who would have blood on his hands, that of him and his child.

His eyes flew open quickly. His child needed to live. *He* needed to live!

At that, his struggles renewed. His hands flailed, hoping and trying hard for any sort of weapon that he could drive through the other. Galion’s entire weight was upon his stomach. Pain shot through Thranduil as the elf’s hands squeezed both his throat and his womb. Yet he tried, reaching further and further driven only by desperation that invoked the last bit of strength he had in him.

The pain was hot, shooting through him, making his eyes water along with his dire need for air. He reached further, aimlessly stretching his fingers in the air.

Thranduil’s heart skipped a beat when miraculously, the tips of his fingers brushed against something cold. He reached further and leaned harder as much as he could against the restraint of the other elf pressed against him. A little more till the object was felt properly along the length of his fingers, a little more till it touched the pad of his palm, a little more...

In a flash, Thranduil swung his hand at Galion’s head, blindly, aimlessly and *desperately*. He heard something smashing, ceramic perhaps as thousands and thousands of fragments hit against the stone floor, followed by an inhuman wail tearing through the chamber but he could care less.

His panted heavily as his throat felt free. His the pressure on his stomach lessened and as Galion was immobilized by the pain, Thranduil took the advantage and shoved the elf hard, slipping past him before he ran, stumbling through the chambers, clashing against pillars and walls for support, letting his faltering steps carry him far from the horror and to one safe place he could think of for the moment.

Unceremoniously, he slumped against the doors and tumbled into a chamber. He clambered on to a wall and pressed himself against it all the while gulping down air with rough breaths. And when he felt a hand upon his shoulder, he could take no more. He crumpled on to the floor, let his hand fly to his womb and guard it with dear life while dry heaves wrecked throughout the room.

***

Legolas had been working on helping his father with affairs of the kingdom ever since he had discovered his condition, he wasn’t oblivious to how hard his father struggled and worked to keep things running smoothly and to keep Mirkwood in relative peace and safety. It was a lot of work and stress which wasn’t healthy for the child so Legolas was working in the attempt to lessen the workload although Thranduil seemed to not take very kindly to the attempts. Legolas wasn’t trying to undermine his father but it seemed that’s exactly what he thought, and at first was even insulted by the effort until he realized he couldn’t exactly stop Legolas either. Legolas shook his head to himself, his fathers attitude had changed over the past few weeks and his slim figure would soon be showing the growth of the child and when that happened things could become difficult for them all, he knew his father was speaking with Bard but thus far the King of Dale had yet to whisk his father away to a place where he could have the child in peace.

Legolas finished a few documents and had stood in place of his father for the council since his father was absent that day before he began to make his way toward his father’s chamber. While he was still in some turmoil over the entire situation he still felt a sense of protectiveness over him, after all this child was his brother and this was his father not some stranger…this was his family and he needed to stand by them no matter what. Legolas had entered his father’s chamber without a knock, he would usually never enter without a direct invitation but the hour had become late and Legolas didn’t wish to wake him if he happened to be sleeping. He was surprised however to not see him anywhere and his bed was undisturbed as well, it was curious to say the least and he was about to go in search of him but just as he was about to leave the chamber door swung open.

It startled Legolas so he stepped back a few steps seeing his father clutch the nearby wall in obvious distress his breathing was labored and he looked disarrayed. When Legolas reached out and touched his shoulder he crumbled to the floor instantly his breathing becoming ever more erratic than before forcing Legolas to kneel next to him.

“Father?” He asked concern lining his voice seeing him clutch his stomach tightly near tears which Legolas had never seen before. He wasn’t sure what to do exactly so he gathered the trembling form of his father into his arms and held him offering him any comfort he could and it seemed to help a little.

Thranduil, sensing the protection around him, let himself be embraced. He hadn’t known at the time who it was that was holding him against his chest but Thranduil didn’t care at that point. He needed support. He needed safety and while he felt strong arms brushing his hair, he instinctively leant in and closed his eyes, drawing one of many long breaths which he desperately needed.

With each breath, he took in a familiar scent—one of fresh April showers—one that he could never forget in his wildest of nightmares— and immediately felt himself calming down to a considerable level. Then when a soft voice called out to him, Thranduil couldn’t resist himself from flinging his arms at his son, drawing him so close that no one could snatch Legolas away from him.

He frowned and broke apart to meet gazes when no response came from his son, nor was there any movement to signal that Legolas had heeded the words. He noticed a myriad of questions behind Legolas’ eyes and explained in a tone which poured great urgency as well as an inherent dread, “I need to leave before dawn breaks. They will murder my child. I *need* to leave.”

Legolas felt his breath catch in his throat at his father’s words, he knew there would be shock and quite a few that would not approve of this child but for someone to actually threaten this child’s life? To threaten his father, no one had the right to assault his family!

“Who was it that threatened you?” Legolas growled angry that anyone would dare to treat his father in such a way, he looked back at Thranduil seeing that he didn’t wish to talk about it, his immediate concern was to leave as quickly as possible. “Has Bard given you a place? At least an option?” Legolas asked seeing a realization cross his father’s features but then a grimace indicating he indeed had a place he could go, but obviously didn’t want to do so. Legolas softened a little toward his father.

“If you are truly in danger here then staying isn’t an option, even if this place is unfavorable it’s better than staying here where you and the child’s life could be in jeopardy. I can handle things while you are away father, trust me.” Legolas said looking into Thranduil’s eyes, he was more than capable of running the kingdom alone for a while at least.

Legolas looked away for a moment one question still nagging him. “Father…what will we do after?” He asked. “After the birth…what will happen then? True that it’s likely no one will threaten you or the child’s life at that point but the acceptance will be hard to concede …please promise me that no matter the circumstances you will come back home eventually.” Legolas said not wanting to entertain the idea that it was possible Thranduil would not be able to return to Mirkwood or return as King, he couldn’t return with a young child in tow without an explanation to its parentage…Legolas worried that his father leaving was not only to protect himself but was also to ensure Legolas’ status as prince and future king.

Thranduil looked away, not even trying to hide the disdain and the hatred which darkened his eyes and face. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Galion to suffer. He knew how badly he wanted to murder the elf for the evil intentions he entertained in his mind. But he debated whether or not to tell Legolas about such treachery. If he had to leave, then Legolas would take his place. Come morning, perhaps. He would be alone, facing the stigma which Thranduil was leaving behind and he needed much knowledge about his potential allies and foes. However...sensing the anger rolling off from his son, Thranduil wondered if he should ever tell Legolas the truth.

His son was still young. He had still a lot to learn about controlling his emotions and at present, his gruff tone didn’t show any sign of such self-restraint. If he knew about Galion, he would kill him. There would be mutiny. The elves would take a second to rally up against him and if Galion had already spread words about Thranduil’s...shame, then what chance would his son have to stand up against an entire rebelling nation?

He kept his mouth shut and remained quiet. He couldn’t share everything with his son. Not now. His composure evaporated instantly when Legolas asked about his accommodation.

A place to go? Indeed he had one. His eyes flickered with silent rage and his face tightened, trembling with the anger which blazed and fumed as he remembered what had remained of his option. He pressed his lips, fearful of vicious words which might escape whenever he was reminded of Thorin’s lack of response or courtesy. He would have to stand before Thorin’s hall like an unwanted guest, he would have to endure his jabs and admit to the entire realm of the mountain of his deepest secret only to be humiliated by the Dwarf king more openly and publicly.

But what could he do? Thanks to Bard, it would be the only place where Thranduil *could* go if he wanted to live.

His anger melted away within seconds when the desperate pleas of his son entered his ears. He flinched and turned, his heart stabbing with a pain of realization as he saw the same in his son’s face. There was finality, a sense and idea which Legolas somehow knew to be farfetched, which Thranduil himself knew to be farfetched. He could never return, he knew that. He knew better to fester dreams only to be crushed later on. He knew he had to tell the truth—

“I promise,” he said with a bitter smile. -Yet he chose not to.

He rose up and requested again, “Call Bard, please.”

He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep his mask and so, when Legolas obeyed and left, Thranduil felt an odd sense of relief and pain for a few moments, before he had to shrug it off and start packing for his necessities.

Dawn was approaching. He had to be quick and escape as quietly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated! Let us know what you think! ^_^


	5. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who have commented, bookmarked, and gave kudos! You guys are our inspiration! This chapter is a little longer than the others, hope you guys enjoy!

Thranduil took a sharp breath as he looked at the mountain in the distance, they were not far, not even in hour away and they had already been greeted by a contingent of dwarf guards that would escort them the rest of the way to the palace. Thranduil still felt he shouldn’t be here; he hadn’t been formally invited, Bard suggested that he should simply come along and Thorin would have no choice but to offer him hospitality for a little while, at least long enough for Bard to make other arrangements…but Thranduil wasn’t so sure about that, Thorin could see his unannounced arrival as great disrespect, and the perfect excuse to insist he leave at once, an decree that Thranduil would have to obey and then where would he go?

The apprehension of this was tearing Thranduil’s insides apart and he unconsciously placed his hand over the small, almost unnoticeable, swell of his stomach which actually seemed to calm himself a little. If Thorin turned him away he would simply move on, if he had to move from place to place, town to town, live in seclusion and isolation he would…he would sacrifice anything for the sake of this child and would do anything to ensure its survival. He took a deep calming breath as they watched the doors to the mountain palace slowly open as they were lead down the long corridor to the throne where the great mountain King sat…Thorin.

The silence in the hall seemingly amplified at the distinct sound of the heavy iron doors opening, turning every pair of eyes at the door way as Thorin’s attention was kept affixed at the tall and stout figure of the man he had come to make alliance with. Though, why he came so unannounced was beyond Thorin’s comprehension and that he did only implied matters of grave urgency which alarmed the dwarf king.

Bard stood for a fraction of a moment but even in that time, it was as if some amount of hesitance rested upon him. Slowly, he began to walk, the footsteps echoing against the walls, increasing a sense of grimness as a tension shrouded the entire hall.

Thorin frowned noticing the top of a golden head peeking from behind the man. He leaned towards his sides, narrowing his eyes and trying to catch a better view of the tall and slender form that always stayed behind Bard. The more they approached towards his throne, Thorin’s legs began supporting his weight on their as they made him stand up involuntarily, his heart racing with concern and mind bubbling with a thousand questions. His eyes flickered again and again at the figure behind the man as curiosity overtook him. The figure surprisingly felt to be submissive and very careful, always keeping to itself, because of which whatever ideas Thorin have had regarding its identity had to be thrown out solely because the unlikelihood of it.

There was no possibility that the person whom Thorin was thinking about would be following anyone’s lead. He would stand out in any given situation and for *him* to cower behind the other...it was absolutely impossible!

Finally, Bard came to a halt as did the other. Thorin’s keen eyes kept focused on the golden head, observing, waiting, as if something wondrous would be revealed. He held his breath when the figure moved. When it did come forward, Thorin’s eyes widened with shock, his mouth went dry and his heart raced so much that it took him great strength to speak just two words.

“It’s you!”

As Thranduil and Bard made their way down the long corridor Thranduil could feel himself dropping back to stand just behind Bard, almost as if the man would be able to shield him from Thorin’s gaze to possibly even have Thorin ignore his presence entirely that would be a blessing if ever there was one but when Bard came to halt he was forced to stop as well and he came forward slightly to stand beside him. Thorin didn’t say anything for a what felt like an eternity for Thranduil but when he finally *did* speak it was not what either Thranduil or Bard were expecting.

Bard was a little confused but when Thranduil adverted his gaze from Thorin he thought it best to speak first. “I thank you for agreeing to meet with me King Thorin. I know I my letter I did not mention King Thranduil would be joining us however, I thought it wise to include him in these talks for the future benefit of all out lands.” He said taking a moment to see if either other King would speak hoping for one of them to snap out of shock. His letter to Thorin had said nothing about Thranduil accompanying him on this meeting, he was worried that if he mentioned it Thorin would deny it at least this way by showing up unannounced they had a chance for Thorin to grant a small respite.

Thranduil realized he had to say something when he felt both Bard and Thorin looking at him. “I apologize for being so presumptuous King Thorin…I had hoped I would be welcomed…” Thranduil looked at Thorin a moment the expression on his face spoke of utter surprise which made Thranduil all the more nervous and he instantly felt that this was a mistake, he should have never come here. “I apologize…I will leave if it pleases you.” He said taking a step back and waiting for the inevitable eviction from Erebor.

Thorin’s mind didn’t work. It simply didn’t. Like a child, he kept his gaze dancing between Bard to Thranduil and back to Bard again as if studying their faces would provide him an answer. When Bard started to speak, Thorin snapped out of his trance and promptly replied, “If it was for the future benefit of our lands, you would have no reason not to mention about King Thranduil’s arrival.”

He narrowed his eyes even further when he noticed something in Thranduil’s eyes lighting up at the very comment at which, Thorin’s suspicion increased all the more.

“And yet you did,” his voice was calculating, his eyes observant as they picked on the slightest changes in expressions on both Bard and Thranduil’s face. They were well masked but for some reason, under Thorin’s gaze, both seemed to grow a little tense...as if they had been caught. “And here you stand, proudly mentioning it in an offhanded fashion. It makes me wonder why!”

His eyes widened instantly, falling on Thranduil, before narrowing under the weight of his frown. No matter how much Thranduil tried to hide, the sharpness in his tone was undeniable, blowing on to the cinders hidden underneath Thorin’s pride and ego.

“You would if I had foreknowledge of your presence, which your *friend* has somehow neglected to make it known to me!” He felt the anger rising within him, as he fixed his burning gaze upon the Elvenking. There was a jab in Thranduil’s words and unmistakably, the jab was for him! And on top of that, he was being lied to? How dare the fools to lie to him under his own roof?

“So tell me, what could it be regarding our *lands* that you were included at the last moment as you claim? And when you are done weaving stories, perhaps you could grace us with the *truth*!”

Thranduil took another step back unconsciously, he was about to turn and leave without another word but at the motion Bard took hold of his hand preventing him from leaving. Bard looked intently into the apprehensive eyes, he could see evident concern and even slight fear of this situation but they needed to endure it at least for a little while giving Thranduil’s hand a tight squeeze for reassurance.

“I apologize for the pretense.” Bard said noticing a strange expression on Thorin’s face also noticing when he released Thranduil’s hand it seemed to ebb away but only slightly making him wonder briefly exactly what Thorin thought of Thranduil, if he didn’t care enough to even send a reply to Thranduil why did he seem to bristle when Bard touched him? “It would be best if we spoke in private.” Bard said noticing the stares from the others in the Throne room

Thranduil wanted to speak up to tell Bard *no* he didn’t want to speak of his condition, Thorin didn’t care he made that painfully clear and Thranduil showing up here without invitation or announcement was wrong and completely not respectful, he had every right to deny them a private audience and by what miracle would he agree? Thranduil’s heart beat wildly in his chest his stomach tying up in knots as he made the attempt to speak but the words seemed caught in his throat. _‘Please’_ Thranduil thought inwardly. _‘just banish me and be done with it.’_ Even the shame of being disregarded without a glance would be easier to bear than anything Thorin had to say to them, for some reason or another Thorin’s resounding voice sent shivers through his entire frame. Thranduil felt he wasn’t strong enough to withstand another bout of insults or anger, at least not without a few remarks of his own but it would be easier to simply leave.

Thorin’s confusion doubled on seeing Thranduil’s reaction. Of all the things the Elvenking was, he was surely no coward, nor one to give in so easily. However, when he noticed the tiniest of movement from Bard, his eyes quickly settled upon the man, directing slowly to the point of contact existing between him and Thranduil as he held the elf by his hand.

He didn’t know why but all of a sudden, he felt a hot burning tension in his chest as he glared at the scene in front of him. His mind felt like being drawn in a whirlpool of powerful emotions, surging towards him in rapid torrents and when he noticed the little reassuring squeeze, the hot flash in his chest increased, making him want nothing more than to march down and shove Bard away from the elf.

However, the man spoke again and the fool even had the audacity to bear a commanding tone when in reality, he had no such right. Thorin sharply redirected his sight at the man, bristling at the very notion of being told what to do without having any knowledge of this sudden intrusion. Soon, he shifted his gaze at the elf and glowered hard. He could see how uneasy Thranduil felt no matter how much he tried hiding it and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was which rendered the elf so pale and sickly.

After what it felt like hours, Thorin finally lifted his chin and ordered to a squire, without taking his eyes off the two people standing before him. “Have two chambers readied for our sudden guests. They will rest and wait till the end of the council and after *that* shall we have our talk.”

With that, he ignored the others and went on with his council as Thranduil and Bard were prepared to be escorted. For some reason, Thorin couldn’t help but feel a tug in his chest. Somehow, he felt forlorn.

***

Once alone in his chamber Thranduil practically stumbled to the bed nearby and fell into it, the journey was truly taxing on his already weary body and the stress of the short meeting with Thorin was mentally draining as well leaving him completely exhausted. He noticed his small bag had already been brought to the room as he forced himself to retrieve it. The apothecary heard about his departure plans and had the foresight to supply him with the supplements he required, she was only able to prepare so much and insisted he find another supply soon if he was unable to return to Mirkwood before he ran out…he had guessed that she knew he might not return anytime soon if at all. He crushed some of the herbs into a glass of water and drank it quickly before falling back onto the bed, Thorin said they would meet after his prior engagements had been met and Thranduil wished there was a way he could avoid it all, it would be better if Thorin would simply ignore him but he knew the dwarf wouldn’t do that.

Thranduil thought about Thorin for a moment, they did have a rather long and not entirely pleasant history together but despite all that they had seemed to make amends and live in relative harmony with one another. He had never thought of Thorin as dishonorable or cruel, but if he wasn’t why did he not reply to his letter? Was it simply too overwhelming for him to accept? Was his anger in the throne room truly nothing more than the blatant disrespect he and Bard displayed, and had nothing to do with Thranduil personally? Was it possible that he thought it entirely as jest? Thranduil sighed his head beginning to throb with his own incessant ranting, he laid down a moment hoping to get a little rest before the meeting but a knock on his door disturbed him from his thoughts.

“King Thranduil,” a dwarf addressed as he gently peeked inside, “The King under the Mountain is waiting for you. If you would please follow me.”

He gestured and waited till Thranduil was on his feet before leading the way down to the inner chambers of the palace. Finally, they came to a halt before a heavily decorated metal door that was far too gorgeous to be leading into any ordinary chamber guarded by two armed soldiers.

The dwarf tapped softly, the vastness of the halls echoing the gentle knock and making it tenfold louder.

“Enter,” a deep voice answered at which, the two guardsmen moved aside and opened the door which revealed a lavishly decorated chamber at the centre of which stood none other than the king with Bard a few feet away from him.

Thorin had his eyes planted on Thranduil, noticing every single step the elf king took till he was but a respectable inches away from himself.

Thorin waited for the door to close and when they were absolutely alone he spoke, “As requested, we are in complete privacy. So I ask again, what brings you here *unannounced*?”

Thranduil tiled his head slightly at the question unsure exactly how to answer him, every time he opened his mouth the words just wouldn’t come as he glanced pleadingly at Bard asking for some support in this who thankfully went to his side. Why was Thorin asking? Did he simply want confirmation just like Bard and wanted to hear it directly from Thranduil before even granting him the benefit of a doubt? Thankfully Bard spoke giving Thranduil the escape he needed.

“It wasn’t his idea to come King Thorin; it was mine I convinced him to accompany me he honestly didn’t want to…he knew it was impertinent, and above all else please understand we had no intention of being so disrespectful but under the circumstances we really had no choice.” Bard said noticing the same strange look from Thorin when he stood beside Thranduil; it almost looked like…jealousy? Bard glanced at Thranduil who was silently starring at the floor but he needed to know what direction Thranduil wanted this conversation to take.

“Thranduil?” Bard said softly catching himself a moment too late when he addressed him so informally.

Thorin inwardly grimaced as yet again Thranduil sought out Bard for reasons he had no idea. Yet, he could see longing in those eyes as clear as water, he could see the silent pleads Thranduil threw out to Bard and he could also see how it took Bard no moment to reach out and stand beside Thranduil.

He had no idea what was going on but whatever it was, it hurt. It stabbed him in his chest, it squeezed his heart and made it throb every time he saw Bard with Thranduil and it hurt till there was nothing but anger brewing within him for unexplained reasons!

His eyes flared as soon as words left Bard’s mouth.

“Please understand that I’d much rather hear from *him* than you when clearly it has something to do with *him*,” Thorin retorted sharply. He didn’t mean to, he didn’t want to but he couldn’t help himself. The venom in his tone was evident, and Thorin was sure they could see the redness of an upcoming rage on his face without much difficulty.

He frowned and waited, shifting his eyes to where Bard was looking and as they fell upon the hunched and humbled figure of the elf, his brain became addled with confusion. However, he flinched visibly when Bard called out to the elf and when his realization of his mistake dawned upon the man, Thorin’s heart felt like being churned and crushed under a great weight, doubling his pain and fuelling his rage.

“Ah, so you speak for *Thranduil* now, is it?” He said spitefully, feeling betrayed and insulted, glaring at the elf as if it would solve every single problem the source of which he had not yet known. “I should very much like to hear from *Thranduil* about this impertinence and lack of choice you so repeatedly speak of.” He now turned fully at the elf in question and asked bitterly, “And he should very much start speaking, for I have not got enough time or interest to spare.”

Thranduil felt his own anger surge within him, while he had come to the mountain unannounced and it truly was impolite, but Thorin was being almost overly offensive to both him and Bard and there really was no call for such remarks. He locked eyes with Thorin his own anger filling them. “I know exactly how uninterested you are…” He growled under his breath. “I realize you own me nothing, that I apparently don’t even deserve the smallest of consideration from you, and I’m not asking that of you. As for an explanation…” Thranduil hesitated a little not sure how to continue.

“I simply need a place to stay for a little while, I wouldn’t impose on you long, and even if only for the night I would be grateful…that is why I came here.” Thranduil said trying not to let his anger get the better of him, he was fairly certain that it wouldn’t help and he was exhausted enough without a fuming argument to tire him out all the more.

“You don’t need *my* consideration, Elvenking. You seem to be doing well with what you already have, have!” Thorin growled back, sweeping a sidelong gaze at Bard before he scoffed and turned away from the man. He didn’t know why he was getting so irritated, he had no reason to even feel the slight burn in his chest that he felt at that very moment and all the ones comprising both Thranduil and his *man* servant! So why *now*?

“And true to your words, I am least interested in your affairs. But that doesn’t justify you asking for my assistance in a matter which you both have so carefully staged to obviously capture my attention!” He went on, but bit down on his words when Thranduil informed of his true purpose.

A place to stay? Why would Thranduil need a place to stay? They were in an alliance, so why would he have to lie about it when it was in their pact to aid each other?

He noticed the silent battle of restraint and control in Thranduil’s face, his anger evidently burning in blue flames behind his eyes. He hadn’t the faintest notion of what Thranduil was talking about and the more he asked for an explanation, all Thranduil seemed to give in return was spiteful comments and more riddles which addled Thorin’s brain.

But what truly confused him was Bard’s involvement. What was it that had made the two of them to travel so out of their way and into Erebor?

He racked through his brain, trying to remember any prior news or letters which would give him a clue, until he remembered Bard’s words in court, which made him almost gasp. Bard did mention future plan of lands...and Thranduil required only a day’s rest as he claimed? So much secrecy...all of it seemed like Thranduil and Bard to be escaping something. Either one of both.

Thorin’s eyes narrowed ponderously, still holding Thranduil’s gaze.

What was it that had the Elvenking on the run?

“How can I let you stay,” he started slowly and carefully ignoring the little twitch on Thranduil’s face, “When I know you might as well bring impending doom upon Erebor? You’ve given me nothing—no details, no explanation and no relevant reason why I should aid you.”

Thranduil looked utterly confused at Thorin’s next statement, “Impending doom? It’s not like that at all.” Thranduil said, the last thing he wanted was Thorin to send them both away. In all honesty Thranduil being with child, especially if the child happened to be Thorin’s, would be good news, children were cherished above all else in Dwarf culture and they were more accepting than the race of men so it still was odd to Thranduil that Thorin never sent him a reply regarding the issue. Thorin seemed so adamant on avoiding it all together.

“Do you really intend to send me away? This child I carry could very well be yours after all…is it really too much to ask for but a night?” Thranduil said his eyes closed not wanting to see Thorin’s face at the moment, he honestly didn’t want to bring up his child or use it as leverage against Thorin, but he also wanted Thorin to know that him being here would not bring anything down upon Erebor, that he didn’t want anything from him just a place to stay for as long or as little as he would allow.

Thorin noticed how Thranduil seemingly wilted at his remark. He waited for an answer but when it seemed like he wouldn’t get any, he began turning away and started walking towards the table where he kept his ale. However, he stopped midway at what Thranduil said. His brows furrowed as confusion slammed against him over and over.

Had he heard right? Did Thranduil mention a child? Very soon, the confusion began washing away just as shock began creeping in, widening his eyes and gaping his mouth as it struggled to form any sort of word.

He faced the elf, intent on giving a good retort but his tongue froze when he found no traces of deception on Thranduil’s demure expression.

“What child?” He rasped out.

Gradually, the rest of the words started entering his mind—not completely but in fragments, which seemed to befuddle him all the more as he started shaking his head.

“Is this some form of jest?”

Thranduil own eyes widened at Thorin’s words pain spread through his chest. “Jest?” Thranduil said shaking his head. “You think I would travel all this way to simply play some viscous prank upon you? Valar what do you take me for! I sent you word of this weeks ago and you had not even the decency to reply, I don’t care if you want nothing to do with me or this child that is your choice…!” Thranduil breathing became erratic and had to stop speaking to catch his breath. He felt Bard come to his side but he didn’t want to be consoled or supported at the moment so he moved away from him. “I realize we all made a mistake…but I cannot simply ignore it, and you shouldn’t ignore it either.”

“Reply to what? The howling winds?” Thorin blurted out, unable to keep his shock to himself. He grew alarmed when Thranduil started heaving but his concern for Thranduil’s well being was overridden by the ample amount of shock and horrific impossibilities. He closed his eyes and puckered his lips, desperately holding himself back from acting or saying anything rash but under the circumstances, it was proving to be a very difficult act.

“I don’t understand. This is not possible under any natural law. We are not bonded—do you even know what you are suggesting?” His words knotted with each other, thoughts collided and stumbled and Thorin hissed not out of anger but out of frustration while he failed to grasp what Thranduil threw at him.

What was Thranduil saying? That he was with child because of a night shared so many moons ago? Was this the reason he left his kingdom and waddled into Erebor alongside Bard?

He gasped at the very thought of the man.

Bard!

By Thranduil’s own words, the child—if it truly did exist—could have been Thorin’s but it could very well be Bard’s as well!

He felt the familiar sting again in his chest but this time, it wasn’t anger or rage which pricked his heart. It was some form of a dull throb, a sense of disappointment; of loss...something which Thorin failed to understand at that very moment.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Bard moving towards Thranduil. He grit his teeth, not wanting to see the scene of affection unfolding between the two but when Thranduil moved away, Thorin’s jaws relaxed a little though his anger didn’t cool off.

“Well you are not lacking responsible company,” he said in between shallow breaths, “Why would you seek me—and you will speak when addressed!”

He growled, sharply glowering at Bard who started to speak, before facing Thranduil again. “Why are you not in Dale? Why are you here in Erebor when obviously you don’t seem like needing my help?”

He noticed Thranduil’s face twist a little in disappointment and before the elf could say anything, Thorin quickly added, “Do not misunderstand me. I do not plan to shove you or put you into the cold but I am curious why you are here, when your obvious route should’ve been towards Dale!” He paused for a while. When he spoke again, his voice mellowed a little with a hint of what one would call regret, “You made your choice by the looks of it.”

Thranduil looked at Thorin, catching his gaze. “It wasn’t a choice.” Thranduil said thinking to himself that it was more a lack of options. “I sent letters to both you and Bard, my page said it was delivered to your hall so I know it was not lost on the way so I assumed you received it…Bard replied and offered his help and I received no word from you so I also assumed you wanted no part in this.” Thranduil swallowed thickly.

“Dale is not an option, while I accept this and intend to take responsibility I know that it will be frowned upon by my people. This is sacred to the elves and this is what Thranduil wants.” Bard said.

Thranduil stopped Bard from speaking. “Then I can stay?” Thranduil asked a twinge of hopefulness in his voice. “I didn’t come to cause you any problems…I won’t stay long.” Thranduil didn’t care at the moment why Thorin seemed to have no knowledge whether it was complete denial or the possibility had not revived his letter it didn’t matter, Thorin seemed to be accepting of letting him stay.

Thorin stayed still and quiet, hearing but not truly registering what was being said to him. A thousand questions ran through his mind. Even greater was his concern upon a number of things that concerned himself and his newly established kingdom. But for now, he needed to steady himself and needed to do what was only the most humane thing to be done.

He stirred at Thranduil’s hopeful voice and waved his arm callously, gesturing for them to leave his presence and rest for the time being. When they were gone, Thorin walked over to a table and poured himself a glass of ale. He needed something to strengthen his nerves and ale would be the only thing that could calm him.

Thranduil had went back to his room, Bard had walked him there but eventually returned to his own chamber, but Thranduil felt restless and nervous regardless of Thorin seeming to accept this news he still appeared to be confused and Thranduil couldn’t really blame him for that…it was a lot to take in, even Bard had a little trouble with accepting it. However Thranduil did wonder what Thorin actually thought about all this, if he truly received no letter then it meant he didn’t completely disregard the situation he simply didn’t know and if so then how did he feel about it? Thranduil wasn’t sure if he was disgusted, elated, upset, he could be a whirlwind of emotions and Thranduil had no way of knowing. Part of Thranduil wished he had never said anything to anyone, if he could handle this on his own he would have said nothing but he wasn’t that strong he needed support and he truly felt it was wrong not to include the father so telling them was the only course of action he could take.

Thranduil changed into a more comfortable attire and slipped into the bed sheets snuggling into them for some sense of security and comfort, and although exhausted he couldn’t’ seem to find any rest.

Thorin didn’t know how long he stood before the chamber simply staring at the door as if it would have some form of solution. He had no mind to even meet the elf to begin with—not now, not that day, not until he was calm enough to grasp what was happening around him. And yet here he was, compelled and curious by a strange tug in his heart which led him there.

Yes, he had questions about this supposed letter. He had questions about Thranduil able to bear a child but all those felt secondary to what Thorin had in mind for the moment.

Sighing, he knocked on the door and entered. He stopped dead on his tracks almost immediately as he took in Thranduil’s chamber, devoid of anything but the bare minimal luggage which the Elvenking was required to bring. It was odd in itself...Thranduil away from his own kingdom with no one but Bard to escort him and carrying only one or two bags...it was just so unusual!

He was stripped off his thoughts by a soft voice at which he looked ahead towards his guest. He was expected to give answers of his own, Thorin knew as much. He had intended to have a word in private with the elf but now that he was in his chamber, with the huge blue eyes pinned at him expectantly, Thorin couldn’t ignore the wrenching feeling in his chest at what he was about to say.

He frowned, thinking for a long time the best way to put forward what he had in mind. But what he couldn’t achieve in the long moments while standing in front of the door was something he couldn’t achieve right then either. Deciding to not stall any longer, Thorin took a deep breath and stated bluntly, “I can’t take responsibility for the child. I can’t give him or her my name.”

Thranduil a few hours later hear his door open as he sat up in bed actually a little surprised that Thorin was there, he had expected to meet him later but it seemed he had come on his own which was a good sign in itself, however he seemed uneasy and his blunt statement thereafter actually took Thranduil aback. For a moment Thranduil couldn’t say anything, what was he supposed to say? He wasn’t that far into his pregnancy and Thorin had just received the news it seemed…he had apparently already made up his mind about the situation.

“All right.” Thranduil said looking away from him. “It’s fine, I don’t expect anything from you Thorin so you needn’t worry about things like that…as far as things are concerned you are simply granting hospitality to a fellow King.” Thranduil wasn’t sure why but his own words seemed to bite and gnaw at him directly upon his heart, a twisting and pulling sensation deep inside he couldn’t seem to brush away. He glanced at Thorin who seemed to have something more to say as Thranduil had some questions too he was worried about asking for fear Thorin would send him away and he had no other place to go and to keep his mind off the grim topic he spoke of something else.

“I wanted to ask permission to see you apothecary.” Thranduil seeming to surprise Thorin with the sudden topic change. Thranduil needed to secure a new supply of herbs before he overextended his welcome.

Thorin was rather surprised when Thranduil had nothing else to say. He didn’t really expected Thranduil to be so at ease with such a remark...to be honest, Thorin thought that it would affect Thranduil or at least a part of him had hoped so. When it didn’t, something heavy settled upon Thorin’s chest which throbbed dully to an uncomfortable degree.

He wanted to explain why and he was about to but when Thranduil abruptly shifted to a different topic, Thorin’s face twisted with bewilderment as he stared with his mouth ajar, unsure how to react.

He gathered himself quickly, however, and responded, “You’re more than welcomed to do so. Although,” he paused, staring knowingly which seemed to catch Thranduil’s attention, “I’m not sure how well equipped my healers are to handle your...situation. Perhaps you should’ve brought you *own* healer when you escaped?”

“I know well enough what I need.” Thranduil said, he knew what herbs to acquire and how to mix them appropriately not to mention involving anyone else in this situation would be folly, it ultimately was his mistake and he should be the one to bear the consequences, involving others aside from those directly connected would be pointless. He looked at Thorin intently a somewhat disappointed look upon the dwarfs face and he was still standing there as if waiting for something making Thranduil sigh as he stood up, he took hold of Thorin’s hand and placing it over the small swell of his own stomach, true you couldn’t feel much but it was still there.

“You believe me do you not?” Thranduil asked wanting to catch Thorin’s gaze but it was fixated upon his hand at the moment. Thranduil released him but Thorin’s hand stayed upon him.

The gesture felt good, almost soothing in its simplicity, the warmth of Thorin’s hand seeming to spread across his entire frame…he remembered that warmth from the time they shared together, his body reacted to the touch but he pushed it aside not wishing to drag Thorin into an illicit affair a second time, men may conjoin casually but Dwarfs were not so careless with their partners and Thranduil truly wanted to respect that, Thranduil had guessed that was why Thorin could not publicly accept this as his child or take responsibility…and that was all right, Thranduil could accept that.

Thorin couldn’t speak and he couldn’t breathe. Where his hand rested, it felt so warm and it felt pulsating with life. A great surge of emotions took over his heart and mind, washing them with surprise, awe and wonder, widening his eyes which kept staring at Thranduil’s womb as if he was in a never-ending trance.

His lips began quivering, twitching at corners before curling into an involuntary smile. His eyes shone with a strange affection as he pressed his hand gently, feeling the heat coming from within Thranduil. It was a child...one he perhaps helped made.

Thorin suddenly blinked as he was once more drawn into reality. The awe from his eyes faded away quickly and the smile on his lips crept away as his mouth started hanging ajar before opening and closing as Thorin was snapped back into the current state.

He frowned and once looked up to catch Thranduil’s confused gaze before flinching away. As he did, he didn’t register—or dared to register—the slight flinch of Thranduil’s own eyes as a reaction to Thorin’s abrupt one.

But Thranduil didn’t understand. How could he? He wasn’t there when Thorin had to run his kingdom. He wasn’t there when Thorin had to be a king and write his history in ‘golden’ letters. Thorin’s own heart started to throb as the realization and understanding pierced deeper and deeper into his chest. A heavy sensation settled there, dull and panging, as if trying to compress his heart and lungs, bringing up a stinging sensation in his eyes.

He started berating himself. Berating for his foolish act even when he knew better. He berated himself for getting swept away by strange emotions where he tarried to do what he originally set out for. He had come to set boundaries and to squash expectations and he would do so with no further delay.

He stared ahead at the other firmly with a king’s gaze and said in a pure professional tone, “I am pledged to a Lady of the Blue Mountains. I shall not break my engagement for it involves affairs of my realm as well.” He paused for a moment and went on, pretending not to see the more prominent flinch in the other’s eyes, “You are most welcomed as my guest. You will be looked after as my guest and will be given all the facilities you will ever need*as my guest*. But expect no more of me.”

He saw Thranduil beginning to speak something, he could almost taste the tang of his words resting on the elf’s tongue but before Thranduil could even begin articulating his thoughts, Thorin nodded curtly and said with finality, “I have taken much of your time, King Thranduil. I will see you in the morning.”

With that, he turned on his heels sharply and left. He didn’t see the tightness in Thranduil’s face as he took his steps. And neither did Thranduil see the remorse on Thorin’s face while the dwarf king’s strong heart ached with an unknown sense of loss.

When Thorin left Thranduil alone the elf stood in the same spot for what felt like hours before he slumped down onto the bed his mind replaying over and over Thorin’s words. Thorin was engaged, his heart and his life had been promised to another…no wonder he couldn’t accept this child, no wonder Thorin couldn’t accept him, but the words left a burning sensation in Thranduil’s heart until the cold indifference of Thorin’s tone began to spread through his body chilling him to his core. Thranduil had told himself over and over that he wanted nothing from Thorin but his hospitality, Thranduil had practically promised that he expecting nothing from Thorin, and yet it still hurt that even if Thorin wanted to he couldn’t accept this child, even if this child was his he couldn’t accept it...and what’s more Thorin couldn’t accept him. Thorn would soon have a wife and children of his own, he would have a true family, not one from the result of a one night stand, this arranged marriage was much more appealing than accepting Thranduil and a child that may not even be his. Thranduil curled up back in the bed and exhaustion soon took his over as he fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

When Thranduil awoke the dawn was just beginning as the sun was peaking over the horizon and the warm rays began to slip through the curtains of his window. It had been a few weeks since he had actually awoken so early, under normal circumstances he had always been early to rise, but lately he had stayed asleep well into the afternoon. His healer had told him the exhaustion wouldn’t last, maybe it was finally giving way and he could resume his normal routine, as normal as he could manage. He had remembered that Thorin had said he would see him in the morning Thranduil took a quick bath and dressed himself, he noticed the slight bulge of his stomach his current clothing would soon enough not be practical he would have see Thorin soon and ask if he could make use of a seamstress…he honestly was not looking forward to his body changing as much as it was but somehow at the same time it felt good, an innocent new light beginning inside of him filling him with a joy he had never experienced before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	6. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to update a little sooner, but don't worry I will still update this weekend as well, I hope you all enjoy chapter 6!

The door opened after a light knock and a head peeped in almost covered with red beard. The dwarf eyed curiously at the chamber which was arranged at the last moment for a guest who was told to be remaining with them for quite a while.

He stiffened when he heard a smooth voice granting him permission to enter. With extreme cautiousness, the dwarf page stepped in, his eyes widening slightly with awe at the sight of an actual elf before he quickly composed himself.

The elf was so much like what the stories depicted. Tall, slender, growing as high as the mountains and tall as trees. *This* elf, in particular, seemed so...ancient and fabled, as if he came out of old songs. His ice blue eyes were now upon him, measuring him up and down. They were so intense that the dwarf page had to keep himself from backtracking a step. *This* elf was so mystical. And why shouldn’t he be? He was *the* Elvenking!

He jerked back into attention when the elf addressed him. Flustered at his blatant staring, he spluttered and managed to relay what had been told to him.

“King Thorin sends his apologies, Your Highness. He is receiving a Blue Mountain Lord and he asked me to escort you where you will have your breakfast.” He paused, waiting for the Elvenking’s response and regarded him with curious eyes. He almost tipped his head when a strange expression swept over the Elvenking for the briefest of moments but before he could try and understand what it was, the elf walked past him, leaving him to scamper on his feet and lead the way.

Thranduil for a moment found himself feeling disappointment that Thorin would not be joining him but he quickly masked it with indifference, he didn’t wish for anyone to create a commotion or for rumors to float about so he would keep his head down and try his best to not let his emotions run too freely. He was soon escorted to a small dining area where he was greeted warmly by Bard. Seeing the King of Dale actually calmed Thranduil a little as seeing Thorin wasn’t deliberately avoiding him, if Thorin had truly received a Lord of the Blue Mountains he had to give them first priority considering he would soon wed one of their daughters. The notion that Thorin would soon marry still pricked Thranduil somewhat as he sat across from Bard.

“It seems he will be allowing you to stay for more than a day.” Bard said idly as their food was served and they were left alone.

Bard started with his food at a gracious speed and occasionally glanced at Thranduil’s plate. His speed started slowing down once he realized that Thranduil’s hands played with his food with the least bit of interest and when Thranduil’s hand stopped moving altogether, Bard quirked a brow and properly took a look at the elf in front of him.

He sighed when he found Thranduil staring at his plate absent-mindedly as if something was bothering him and to a reasonable extent as well. But for the love of God, why? Thorin was hospitable...

Bard frowned lightly at that very thought.

Was he not?

“He seems to be willing to aid you at least for a while, despite what we feared,” he paused and observed how a sort of restraint shadowed Thranduil’s face. His frown deepened when he realized that it could very well be what they feared. That Thorin could have sent word for him wanting not to be involved in the matter. Why else would Thranduil seem so distracted? For him to help the elf, Bard had to know what the matter was and hence he pressed on.

“Unless he isn’t?” He asked, concern increasing when a surprised shudder flowed through Thranduil’s body.

“Not exactly…He’s been very gracious toward me but me staying here for too long could be problematic for him…he is to be married soon enough, he can’t publicly acknowledge me or this child it would ruin everything.” Thranduil said with a sigh. “And you are practically in the same position, unable to publicly let this be known.” Thranduil stood up from the table a deep sorrow taking over his emotions, his eyes stinging from tears that wished to be shed but he wouldn’t allow.

“Have you managed any other arrangements? If not I need to know now so that I will be able to make my own.” Thranduil said, he could easily enough have Legolas transfer him enough coin to get by alone if he needed too but he needed to know if that was necessary.

Bard felt his eyebrows rising higher past his hairline while his eyes grew with extreme bewilderment at what he heard.

Thorin? Married?

He quickly tore away his gaze from Thranduil and settled onto his plate all the while his eyes were moving left and right as he tried grasping a thread of realization which was now being woven in fragments.

Was this the reason he never responded to Thranduil’s letter? In a way, Bard felt for the dwarf king. He understood why Thorin didn’t want to do anything with Thranduil until they practically forced him to but that was no excuse for how recklessly he acted. He discarded that trail of thought the moment later. Thorin couldn’t be blamed here. Not entirely. They were all having a part in this.

His thought was broken by Thranduil’s voice. It was soft, mellow hiding the ache that was clearly written on Thranduil’s demeanor which pierced Bard like sharp ice. He exhaled and settled his knife and fork aside, taking his time before he slowly responded with a shake of his head.

“Unfortunately, I am unable to find a reliable convoy which will take you to the Shire.” Just as Thranduil was beginning to protest, Bard quickly added, “The men will be shocked, the dwarves will receive word of this sooner or later and they will start getting interested, The elves are out of the question. That only leaves the Shire. Hobbits are not much curious lots. They don’t really care what goes beyond their borders and they are humble enough to respect one’s privacy!”

His fists clenched when Thranduil’s shoulders seemed to sag down. The brightness in his eyes melted in a deeper shade as disappointment crossed his features.

Bard hated himself honestly. He had told— no— promised Thranduil that he would take care of him. That he would gladly be the father the child deserved, even if he wasn’t the one Thranduil wanted. And here, he had an opportunity but he couldn’t do a thing at the moment! He was helpless.

Without thinking much, he reached out and placed his palm over Thranduil’s and said softly, “I wish I could take you with me. I wish I could do more but believe me, I am trying my best.”

His own words somehow felt bitter in his mouth, felt like a lie. If he did try his best, he would be having Thranduil safely in his castle, against his chest and among his family! But...Thranduil didn’t want that. A sharp pang struck his heart when he was reminded of Thranduil’s words back in Mirkwood.

Even if Bard could take the elf with him, Thranduil could never truly be *his*. His heart started to throb for someone else and Bard was beginning to see clear signs of it. He wondered if Thranduil did as well.

“I would happily offer my place and yet I can’t. Forgive me,” he said unconsciously squeezing Thranduil’s hand.

“Then what good is hypocrisy?” A cold, deep voice startled Bard at which he quickly withdrew his hand and looked over his shoulder.

He froze a little when his eyes met dark black ones of none other than Thorin Oakenshield, staring intently at him, as if piercing his very mind and soul.

Bard for a moment was a little surprised when Thorin spoke and the anger that rolled off the others in waves, but at the same time he felt his own fury building inside him at the dwarf’s words. “I am anything but a hypocrite, and regardless of my own shortcomings I am at least trying. You have made it clear that while he can stay here it is not a permanent solution, he doesn’t feel comfortable among the race of men, and his own people look down upon this so much that it simply isn’t safe…let me know of somewhere else where he won’t be judged or in danger.” Bard stood up and glanced at Thranduil a moment. “I am anything but insincere with Thranduil.” Bard practically growled.

Bard felt a hand a gentle hand on his shoulder, Thranduil didn’t want to fight with either of them but he didn’t want them to fight among each other either. “Its fine, the Shire is fine.” Thranduil said, he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about residing in the Shire but Bard was right, the hobbits would leave him in peace and provided he kept himself scarce he could live there as long as needed without having to travel the rest of his life. It seemed they only needed a safe convoy, for the longer they waited the more dangerous traveling would be for Thranduil.

“You are nothing but a hypocrite. Your frequent reminders of ‘trying your best’ shows all but you being your best Master of Dale ,” Thorin jested with a little smirk, narrowing his eyes at Bard in a mocking fashion as it glanced briefly at Bard still holding Thranduil’s hand. Bard’s face molded into a form of seriousness, the bitterness of Thorin’s words pinching him at the right place. Satisfied with Bard’s glower upon him, Thorin went on, “And would he be comfortable among the race of dwarves where he’d be awed by most and judged by some? He will receive attention—good or bad—that which he wants to avoid.”

When Bard stood up in heat of the argument, Thorin’s demeanor went deathly cool and with fiery eyes, he followed Bard’s movement, the flames blazing at the little glimpse the fool dared to throw at Thranduil. He understood and was well aware of the burning and tugging sensation in his heart. He was well aware of his fingers twitching to curl into a tight fist. All he could think of was the impulse of feeling his knuckles against Bard’s jaws. Why?

Thorin jolted out of his trance at Thranduil’s voice and his eyes widened only momentarily as he realized how dangerously his mind strayed. As Thranduil faced him, the fire in his eyes began dying down and the coldness once more started layering his face. His hands relaxed and the burning pull he felt within started ebbing away, leaving only the wildness of his heartbeats which gradually became regulated.

“I’m engaged,” at last he threw his reply, letting the weight of the event be carried by his tone alone. Bard seemed to mellow down at that, though he still kept frowning.

He nodded once at Thranduil. Soon, he dismissed Bard completely with a lethargic glance and directed all his focus at Thranduil as he said, “Apologies for not being present during breakfast but I hope you enjoyed the same nevertheless. I was hoping to speak with you without much distractions for...” He trailed off, unable to catch a quick glimpse of Thranduil’s womb before speaking again, “...obvious concerns. And seeing that the Master of Dale has arranged to leave tomorrow till further notice, you will need to approach someone other than him.”

He paused when Thranduil turned his head in impulse, wanting to catch Bard’s eyes. At that, Thorin raised his eyebrows as it suddenly hit him.

“Oh he hasn’t informed you, has he?” When Thranduil’s gaze turned cold, Thorin received all the confirmation he needed. A small smirk touched his lips and he rolled his eyes at the man’s unwitting action. “Well then, I’m not sure I envy his sincerity.”

He winced mentally at how his words came out. Cold, spiteful as if it was Thranduil who was to be blamed for whatever it was the man had done. However, he couldn’t help it. It stung him even to the mildest degree just by thinking that Thranduil had approached Bard first and barged in when he needed Thorin. He hadn’t even been confided in before! It stung him and for all he knew, Thranduil was to blame as well...but for what? And why? Of that, Thorin had no idea.

Thranduil listened to everything Thorin had to say and for the most part stayed silent, part of him wanted to scream and yell at Thorin for his blatant disregard for what could possibly be his own child as his hand unconsciously went to rest upon his stomach, but he couldn’t so that. Thorin seemed already volatile and easily agitated and without a suitable convoy Thranduil didn’t want Thorin to become so angry and order him to leave. When he heard Thorin speak of Bards intention to leave it truly did surprise him and anger him somewhat, and for whatever reason Thorin sounded angry at *him* and Thranduil wasn’t sure as to why. Thorin was so angry with him he had already promised not to ask Thorin for anything and if he didn’t want claim to the child that was acceptable also considering his engagement so why was he so angry? Bards voice broke Thranduil’s thoughts.

“I don’t have a suitable convoy for Thranduil; I have to leave to make the proper arrangements.” Bard grit out to Thorin. Before turning o Thranduil. “You needn’t be concerned, I’ll return soon and escort you personally but it will take some time.” He said trying to catch Thranduil’s gaze and unable to do so.

Thranduil shook his head a bitter taste in his mouth as he clenched his jaw at the words. “Don’t…don’t promise me anything. If you can arrange transportation do it then, there is no reason for you to come along as it would only complicate matters, I made the decision to have this child so I will handle it. You both can wash your hands of me once I leave.” Thranduil said leaving both Bard and Thorin going back to his room, hot tears stinging the back of his eyes threatening to spill at any moment.

Bard felt his heart constrict slightly at Thranduil’s words, he was angry and in all honesty had every right to be but there was really nothing he could do from here in the mountain, he had no choice but to leave although he really didn’t want to it was the only way. When Thranduil walked away he wanted to follow him but his step hesitated and he faltered, Bard couldn’t follow him this time, and then Thorin looked at him intently, almost asking him with his eyes _‘why aren’t you going after him?’_ to which Bard had no answer.

Thorin was all the more baffled when there was nothing but hollowness in Bard’s face. The dwarf king frowned, eyeing the other deeply and asking him in silence to go after Thranduil, to calm the elf, do *something* that could dilute the situation. But when he saw a knowing gaze in the man’s eyes shadowed by a mellow shade, Thorin’s brows quirked, his shoulders slumped and he began shaking his head with dejection before he slowly walked in Thranduil’s direction with a sigh.

***

The search was not easy. Thorin could swear by the name of his ancestors that he had circled his own palace twice, confused his own halls more than once all for the sake of finding an elf well on hormones. He was storming down towards their ‘hanging terrace’, half heartedly glancing either side.

Suddenly, his feet stooped and just as Thorin snapped his head towards the said terrace, he felt his eyes bulging out of his skull with many accompanying emotions. There, slumping before him, facing the other way, was the source of his misery! After all the walking and running, the elf somehow found his way there and had been there all along!

Thorin made a face, wanting to say so many things to the elf who wasn’t aware of his presence yet. He opened his mouth and widened his eyes about to give Thranduil a piece of his mind when he faltered and blanched at a very uncharacteristic sound.

Thorin narrowed his eyes and examined closely. Thranduil’s back was still, the elf seemed calm and composed enough. Then when the dwarf was about to turn away and leave him alone, Thorin almost jumped at the sudden sniffing sound along with the jerking of Thranduil’s shoulders.

Befuddled, Thorin approached a few more steps. He wondered whether it could be something he thought it was. He had seen his sister after teasing her a good bit during their childhood. Dís gave the same reaction, almost...and it just made Thorin wonder.

As the sound was emitted again, Thorin’s suspicion was finally confirmed. At that, the dwarf felt his eyes widening yet gain along with his jaw threatening to touch the floor.

Thranduil—the mighty Elvenking, the victor of the Battle of Five Armies, the keeper of Northern Mirkwood—was *crying*!

‘For Mahal’s sake!’

Thorin wanted nothing more than to bang his head at a nearby wall. He could deal with an arguing Thranduil but what was he supposed to do with a sobbing one?

After what felt like ages, Thorin licked his lips and cleared his throat, effectively catching Thranduil’s attention who hissed at him and immediately faced away.

“How do you find the view?” He asked, mentally kicking himself immediately after. That was NOT the thing to be said. That was not tactful and it was NOT a smart thing to say either!

Trying once more, Thorin rubbed the back of his neck briefly before fisting the air, trying his best to come up with some suitable words. When he failed, he resorted to draw from his past experience.

“My sister was pregnant twice,” he started hesitantly; “It is...taxing. I understand.

Thranduil had the intention to go back to his own room but he had left so quickly he had gone in completely the wrong direction and in all honesty he had no knowledge of the mountains inner workings so the more he walked the more frustrating his state of lost became, and that slight push was enough o sent him into tears. He wasn’t really upset about being lost but sometimes the smallest things would trigger a rather uncharacteristic emotion, and his recent conversation with Bard and Thorin left him feeling very vulnerable and upset. He finally stopped on a hanging terrace deciding tit was a good a place as any to try and get his emotions under control which was almost an impossibility.

He was just starting to breathe normally when he heard someone clear their throat behind him and at realizing it was Thorin he couldn’t help but wince. He wanted to ask why Thorin had followed him and to ask him to simply leave him alone! At this moment he really couldn’t tolerate another insult nor did he have the strength to argue, Thorin really had no right to say anything to him so why was he here?

When Thorin spoke it actually confused Thranduil a little bit, _‘The view?’_ It was almost as if Thorin was unsure on why he was here just as much as Thranduil was, and also uncertain on what to say. When he mentioned his sister though Thranduil scoffed a little at the comment.

“I’m sure you sympathized, but you couldn’t possibly understand…how could you.” Thranduil stated, his voice slightly strained but he could feel himself calming down a little which was odd, whenever Bard tried to calm him in usually resulted in an argument until Thranduil was completely spent but with Thorin it was different, his presence didn’t irritate Thranduil at all…it actually soothed him.

“I could because she yelled at me and often made herself a fearful presence,” He replied most honestly, amused to find a somewhat intrigued Thranduil looking at him, expecting some kind of conversation on the subject. Thorin didn’t ignore the offense which the elf most certainly took but truthfully, he had no idea what triggered him to be driven in his emotional state.

So he went on, hoping that Thranduil would be calm and sane enough before Thorin could apologize for whatever he did.

“She would sob and cry thinking she was fat when she was with Fili.” His eyes had a nostalgic layer about them, a light smile touching his lips as he relished his memories. “She would say her legs ached and as the day drawled to a close, she could hardly walk properly.”

Thorin snapped his mouth close and felt a slap in his head just as soon as those words left his mouth. He stared up at the other with alarmed eyes and at the sight of Thranduil’s quivering lips and eyes, his heart began beating with utter dread.

“But she wasn’t fat. It was just her thinking. And she...didn’t...walk in a bad...manner.” He felt his tongue drying as the fear increased more and more, adding layer after layer as Thranduil’s blue orbs trembled like liquid diamonds. The elf at that moment just looked so vulnerable and so exposed now that he was not wearing his mask at the moment. He looked so natural.

*Beautiful*.

Thorin sighed out at that very thought. He felt his heart beating fast with a stretching sensation. His cheeks started warming up with the inflow of blood and his chest felt heavy and churning, trying to balance a good deal of emotions.

He didn’t understand what was wrong with him. He was confused, surprised, overwhelmed and he just had described Thranduil in the most uncharacteristic manner he never thought he had in him!

‘Mahal be damned!’

Although Thorin’s words were not exactly flattering he knew Thorin intent was not to insult him. Thranduil watched him try so desperately to recover and fumble with what he had said it actually made Thranduil smile and the blush that spread across his cheeks was even more amusing making him forget his woes even if it was just for a moment. He was trying to be sincere and compassionate which was good although it did confuse Thranduil a little bit.

“Why are you trying so hard to be nice to me?” Thranduil asked looking up at Thorin from where he sat. “I honestly appreciate the gesture but I am a problem for you…am I not?” Thranduil asked.

A part of Thranduil wanted Thorin to say he wasn’t a problem but he knew that would be a lie and Thranduil was tired of being lied to at this point. He shook his head at his own foolishness for asking such a thing, Thorin was to be married and Thranduil was simply a random element in his life right now, he should be grateful and accepting of Thorin’s kindness but the more Thorin showed him compassion to more Thranduil began to crave it. Bard was different, quick to take advantage and maneuver Thranduil in such a way he had no other option but to rely on him, however Thorin seemed to genuinely care although uncertain about how to proceed.

The heat in his chest all the more increased when Thorin saw Thranduil smile. It was such a rarity in and of itself. He had seen Thranduil’s rage, his bitterness, coldness and arrogance. But never something so pure and honest.

The smile was bright, unhindered and the little tinge of pink on the elf’s cheeks did everything to squeeze and stretch Thorin’s heart. He smiled unknowingly which faltered just for a moment at what Thranduil asked.

Thorin frowned lightly as he himself tried weighing the situation in his mind.

Problem? Was Thranduil a problem truly?

Every bit of logic screamed yes at that but there was a small voice at the back of his mind which made him doubt even by a little amount.

Yes, they made a mistake. Yes, he was to be married. Yes, his people would not take the scandal lightly should word ever got out...but if that was the case, then why did he feel so uneasy when Bard showed off his responsibility? Why did it sting so much when he told he couldn’t claim the child as his own?

“I do not know,” he answered finally with an honest and soft voice before lifting up his eyes to meet those of Thranduil’s, wanting to seek an answer he himself couldn’t determine. “Are you?”

Thranduil could feel his heart flutter when Thorin didn’t say outright that he indeed was a problem that he would sooner be rid of then dealt with, he might not be sure what he was but that was all right.

“…I…I don’t want to be a problem for you.” Thranduil said meeting his gaze as a nagging question tingled his mind and he regarded Thorin seriously. “Did you honestly not know? My page told me that the letter had been delivered to Erebor, it reached the mountain I am sure of it…when I received no reply I assumed the worst, but I would still like to know…if you were not to be married if word had reached you before this engagement would you be just as unwilling?”

“What letter?” Thorin’s brows furrowed as he racked his brain trying to remember exactly what Thranduil was referring to. “Honestly, what is this letter you speak of? If it had something as uncommon as your condition, I’d surely remember it. Perhaps, it’s somewhere in the archive hall. It did not reach me.”

Instead of sweeping away his confusion, Thranduil’s next words added more to it and for a while, Thorin could say nothing. He stayed silent, pondering deeply over the words, highly aware of the sensations of pull and squeeze tormenting his chest along with the increasing heat.

Would he give his name to the child? Would he actually *accept* Thranduil and build his life with him? Honestly, Thorin had never considered taking Thranduil as a serious lover. In fact, that he didn’t resulted in the current situation.

He felt the depth of Thranduil’s eyes upon him. He knew he had to answer and he knew what he had to say but as he tried, his heart wrenched, his throat went dry and the uncomfortable feeling which settled in his chest began rising up to his throat. At last, Thorin exhaled and resorted to the truth, “I wouldn’t know.”

He saw the beginning of disappointment in Thranduil’s orbs and the very sight made his innards twist with guilt. He hoped Thranduil would understand. “It is a childhood match. It was settled long before we met and it is a great duty for me to keep the honor of my elders and do right by my people. I wouldn’t really know. Forgive me.”

Thranduil shook his head but at the mention that Thorin was destined to be with this maiden since he was child made anger swell up within him as he stood to his full height at glowered at Thorin. “Since you were a child? You told me with that proud expression and pretentious attitude that you do not frolic, and yet you laid with me shared me in the same bed and the same time, *knowing* that you were promised to another! Why would you do that? Why did you?”

Thranduil knew of his own reasons for behaving the way he had, he really had no control over the situation and to be honest he only remembered flashes and sensations of the night, he had no recollection of details and for the most part he didn’t recall it, only knew it had happened. However if Thorin knew he was to be engaged why would have even approached him in the first place, was it simply out of lust, the pride of bedding an elf?

Thorin was startled when Thranduil towered over him. He felt the full intensity of blue flames aimed at him, wanting to scorch him alive. And why shouldn’t he? Thranduil was right, Thorin did go against the pride and custom his kin upheld with honor. He did stray if only for the night and he did do wrong by his fiancé. His heart filled with a twinge of guilt and shame, Thranduil’s words hurting him and his pride.

His vision firmed instantly after and he met Thranduil’s eyes with a steady gaze which seemed to startle the elf momentarily. Thorin straightened up himself and held his carriage, pride exuding from his posture and spilling from his eyes which glared at the other meaningfully.

“And yet you partook,” his tone was deep and strong much like his focus at which Thranduil seemed to falter on his words. “With not one but two of us. You partook, craved and begged to be ravished. Again and again and again with not one but *two* of us. “

Thranduil’s nostrils were flaring and his face went deathly calm at the unexpected insult that was thrown at him but Thorin didn’t stop there. He committed a mistake but he refused to be the only one being implicated when it was a mistake shared by all three of them. His eyes flickered with arrogance and insult and he went on stepping forward, causing Thranduil to take an equal step back. “You, who was and is bonded to your other half, late as though she is. You, who ignored all of your customs and promise. You, who is no better than any of us, a heretic, an outcast, a *shame* to his people. So who are *you* to judge me?”

Without any warning, he tugged Thranduil by his shirt and brought him down to his level. “As for your ‘why’, why should you care for my motives? What does it matter to you? Clearly you wouldn’t be here if you were not pregnant and clearly it wasn’t your intention to be with child.”

His face hovered inches away from Thranduil’s.

“You did not seek commitment. You sought lust.” The words were fast turning to ashes in his mouth, the hot pain in his chest rapidly spreading, stinging him to agonizing degrees. He could hear the tiny voice yet again at the back of his mind but the words it spoke were mere hums, covered under the hurling anger. Thorin could feel every single gust of breath hitting him like torrents of wind as the elf started quivering in rage.

“I am sheltering you not out of redemption but only out of sympathy. I will be the most gracious host you’ll have ever seen and you will not forget your place here as my *guest* to whom I will not be answerable. You will do well to remember that.”

His own breath was heavy, his heart ramming against his chest due to bruised ego and indecent implications. For a while both of them simply stared at each other, warm dark flames clashing with deathly cold ones.

Finally Thorin released Thranduil who hissed after jerking away. And then sparing no further glance, he trudged down to attend to his duties. He paid no heed to the sting in his chest and bitterness in his mouth and he did not look back to meet wild eyes widened and shattered.

He did not dare.

Thranduil shook his head to himself as Thorin began to walk away from the terrace, the mountain kings words were so cold and insulting to Thranduil’s pride he felt as if he would shatter if one more word was spoken in spite from the other. Thorin was right in some aspects but he had also been wrong.

It was not lust that drove Thranduil that night to seek an appropriate and suitable partner, such was the way of his heat cycle, a time when Thranduil himself was more fertile and that was what was driving him toward one that would be the most likely to give him a healthy and strong child…that was the entire point, true enough it wasn’t exactly planned but his body had every intention to become with child and succeeded. Thranduil honestly had been able to resist the tug and pull of his libido for over a century since his wife had passed away, it was quite possible that resisting it for so long was what caused him to lose control so easily but that no longer mattered as the deed was done and he as suffering the consequences…Thorin didn’t understand that.

Also Thranduil did not betray his vow; before his wife died she had released him from their bond and even urged him to find love once more in his life…she loved him enough to release him. She knew well of Thranduil’s ability and wanted her beloved husband to fulfill the silent and maybe unbeknownst wish to bear a child of his own, true Thranduil had betrayed elvin customs and was not bonded but he had not betrayed his wife.

Thranduil looked up slowly standing. “Your motives do concern me Thorin; it will be easier to walk away from you if you just wanted sex…but if it was me you wanted, that’s different.” Thranduil wasn’t sure if Thorin could hear him or if he had walked too far at that point. A part deep within Thranduil wanted Thorin to care, if not care about him at least care a little about this child which was possibly his. Thranduil couldn’t understand how Thorin could so easily walk away from everything as he was, was it not painful, did it not break his heart as if was breaking Thranduil’s?

Thorin paused, not knowing if he heard something, a light wisp of a voice perhaps. But he was further away from hearing range and he didn’t truly believe Thranduil was following him just to have the last word. Writing it off as the wind, he narrowed his eyes and began walking away. It stung him, hurt him, and perhaps even shamed him. But he couldn’t stand another bout of insult. Not when he had deserved more than his share.

And he was engaged. He repeated once again mentally. Though why he had to remind himself was a matter he didn’t wish or have the courage to explore.

 


	7. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has commented, bookmarked, and given kudos to this fiction! We appreciate it!

In his chambers, Galion sat still and absently caressed a ceramic shard. His eyes were narrowed and head crammed with a thousand thoughts. He had remembered well how shocking it was to learn of his king’s heresy. He remembered how easily he could uproot his king’s shame and spare their kingdom from chaos. He remembered the arrogance in Thranduil’s voice, fresh and ringing in his ears, he remembered his fearful eyes at the mention of ridding away a menace and saving a realm and he remembered the pain of a wall decoration hitting against his head, the sounds of shattering pottery still making echoing in his mind.

Thranduil was gone. Whether he’d return or not was still unknown. But it didn’t matter. They still had Legolas. The prince was understanding and loyal. He was righteous—more than his father ever was or ever could be. He would not give up on Thranduil but he’d have to choose a side—his father or his realm. He would be pure and sweet and innocent and the pride shunning away his father’s dishonor.

He winced and clenched the fragment in his hand. The sharp edges bit into his skin, grazed it till it slowly began to bleed.

Galion would see to that.

***

Thranduil stood on the Balcony of his room watching as Bard left for Dale, it could be days before he would be able to make a safe and suitable arrangements to have a convoy take Thranduil to the Shire and several more for them to arrive…Thranduil simply hoped that Thorin would not become frustrated with him before then. Thranduil walked to the full length mirror in the room and pulled away his tunic to look at the ever growing swell of his stomach it seemed to expand more and more every day…Thranduil now understood his wife’s ranting about being as large as a house, it wouldn’t be long before he too was in the same state. Although, males did not carry their children as long as females, the expected time was six months and the child had a tendency to grow and mature faster within males than females, it wouldn’t be long now.

Thranduil took his afternoon supplements and wanted to find Thorin’s page to ask for an audience with him, regardless of everything they had said to one another Thranduil still didn’t wish to disrespect him further by making use of his seamstress without paying for the service, he had brought a decent amount of coin with him before his departure and this was something that he would need sooner than later.

“My Lord, His Grace is currently in his study but he has granted an audience with you,” replied a dwarf. He was young and still had not come of age and clearly he had not seen an elf as close as he was seeing now. Due to that, he was rather bad at hiding his curiosity and ever so often he would find his eyes settling on Thranduil’s middle which bulged out by the tiniest of amount.

“Pl-please follow me.” However he composed himself remembering his courtesies and led the way.

***

“Enter,” Thorin ordered upon hearing a soft knock. He barely looked up from the audits and parchments and almost sighed as he had many more propositions of finance to go through. With his wedding fast approaching, there was a lot to be planned and much more to be rationed.

And the sudden but unsurprising reduction of trade from Mirkwood made it a tad bit difficult what with the majority of herbs and medicines came from the Woodland Elves.

He soon heard soft steps approaching him, then pushing of a wooden chair against the floor. He soon found it difficult to concentrate as a sweet and fresh scent surrounded him. Licking his lips once and taking a stead breath, Thorin finally lifted his eyes, slowly at first as if going against a great amount of weight till Thranduil’s face came into view.

“You requested to meet me?” He asked, keeping his tone neutral. He hadn’t forgotten their previous encounter and he felt truly apologetic for being harsher than usual. But he was quite surprised at Thranduil’s humility as he looked somewhat hesitant and yet eager.

“Please forgive me for interrupting, I know you quite busy…” He glanced at the young dwarf who quickly bowed and left without another word. “I won’t take too much of your time I just wished t employ a seamstress.” In all honesty he was a little embarrassed to be asking, he had already made good use of Thorin’s apothecary and had not compensated him for the herbs either. “I also have drawn a list o the herbs I have taken from the apothecary…I’m sure I can offer some type of reimbursement.” He said hesitantly.

Thorin quirked a brow, subconsciously setting the paper in hand aside.

“A seamstress?” His eyes travelled down to Thranduil’s middle and as he noticed the growth of life quite clearly, he couldn’t help but feel awed. His gaze lingered for quite a while, focused on the rise and fall of Thranduil’s torso as if it was the rarest and most amazing thing he had ever witnessed. An in a way it was! There was a child growing in there, an actual living and breathing child which perhaps he had helped made.

His heart warmed. Perhaps he had helped make the child. Perhaps it was his blood...and as much as it was possible that Bard could be the father, it was also possible for Thorin to be the same.

Without his knowledge, Thorin’s hand lifted itself and brushed lightly against Thranduil’s womb before touching it delicately. Thranduil’s breath hitched at the suddenness of it but before long, his breathing became normal and a little faster if Thorin had paid attention. His eyes widened at the feel of a little bump still at its early stages. It was such an unbelievable feeling which washed over him as he felt more properly with the tips of his fingers. Warm, soft and yet firm—proof of it not being empty. Proof of life.

His eyes went even bigger when he felt a hand over his own, followed by the pads of his hands feeling more generously Thranduil’s stomach as the elf pressed Thorin’s palm against it.

And yet again, Thorin was at loss of words. He wanted to say so many things, express so many feelings which confused and elated him all at once but he simply couldn’t find his tongue. Instead he drew closer. His eyes fluttered shut at the feel of a light hand caressing his mane and cheeks, silken strands tickling his skin, fast breaths hitting his face and before long, gentle lips pressing against his own.

Thranduil watched cautiously as Thorin stood and regarded him curiously before bolding placing his hand upon him, which actually surprised Thranduil but the look upon Thorin’s face as his fingers gently caressed his stomach made Thranduil soften a little and he placed his hand over Thorin’s. Thorin seemed so hesitant about touching him but Thranduil honestly didn’t mind it, it was comforting that Thorin was accepting everything in stride…even if he couldn’t ever claim this child as his own at least he accepted it existence.

Thranduil reached forward subconsciously touching Thorin’s hair, he was originally going to pull away but instead he drew closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips although he pulled away almost just as quickly after realizing what he had just done.

“Oh…I’m sorry about that, I don’t know why I did that…I’ll leave you to your work…” Thranduil said not sure what to say but as he turned he was surprised when Thorin grabbed his wrist preventing him from leaving.

Thorin took many long breaths while he regarded the other deeply. His heart raced suddenly filling up with a wild rush of emotions, washing away with their tide any remnants of hesitation he would have. His hand gripped Thranduil’s wrist a bit firmer, drawing the elf close. The look on Thranduil’s face was beyond astonishing.

That he was appalled was written clearly on his unguarded expressions. And when Thorin tugged him a bit more, the last thing he saw was the widening of Thranduil’s eyes before their lips met hungrily and Thorin closed his eyes and became lost in the sweetness which was Thranduil.

Thranduil’s first instinct was to put a stop to this, he really wanted to respect that fact that Thorin was engaged that he was promised to another, Thranduil wanted to be adamant about that and yet…he was so warm and he tasted so good. Thranduil opened his mouth only slightly but that was enough for Thorin to tangle his fingers in Thranduil’s hair and delve his tongue inside.

Thranduil felt himself slightly overwhelmed; his knees giving way making him crumble to the floor although that only evened out the height difference and the kiss intensified.

As soon as Thorin had felt the distinct tip of Thranduil’s tongue, he lunged and pressed his tongue against Thranduil’s and pulled their bodies together. He inhaled into the kiss and tilted his head, covering every inch of Thranduil’s mouth while his tongue caressed its inner linings and tangled with that of his counterpart.

He breathed in once more when he suddenly felt the difference in their adjusted heights as Thranduil’s body almost crumpled against his. In response, Thorin allowed his palms to hold on to the elf by his nape in a desperate attempt before pressing their faces even more and delving even deeper.

There was heat in his chest and blood rushing to his ears. There was no sound to be heard, no feelings to be sensed. Only the rushed breaths of Thranduil echoed in his ears, only the throbbing heat in his heart was sharply felt.

He growled softly out of pure pleasure as a pair of hands started travelling up his back and brushed against his cheeks and palms. Thranduil’s hands were surprisingly soft, uprooting any form of belief that this being was a fearsome king, a veteran, a terror with swords and a victor in countless battles and wars. Thranduil’s fingers caressed along the length of Thorin’s own set of appendages; gentle and slow all the while his lips moved evenly and folded over Thorin’s pair in various angles as he tipped his chin and tilted his head.

Their kiss grew desperate, hungry insatiable and yet vying for the last drop of pleasure before air became an absolute necessity for their burning lungs.

Their face pressed even closer, bodies gelled together as one. Breaths became storms, hands became restless, minds numbed and tongues lapped and warred, each wanting to taste the other. Finally they broke apart, mouth hung ajar, breathing swollen and heaved as they simply stared into one another—pale eyes at dark ones, the former suddenly beginning to have a glow about them, question which didn’t escape the other.

At that, Thorin’s own eyes started weaving a confusion, which slowly mixed with understanding and as it turned dense with realization, the dwarf king reflected a horrified look, as if he had just understood the extent of calamity he had brought upon all of them.

Thranduil caught on. His brows twitched, wanting to frown but still hoping for that which he perhaps sought. He peered intently, silent questions in his eyes.

And how did Thorin act?

He lowered his eyes.

He retreated.

Thranduil could feel his heart drop when Thorin practically walked away from him, at the sight of Thorin backing away from Thranduil made the elf silently curse himself for he knew that this would happen. Thranduil had reminded himself that Thorin was spoken for and yet he couldn’t’ stop himself from responding to Thorin regardless of that fact, he hated himself for being so weak to such simple seduction and even more so for the fact that if Thorin had wanted him completely Thranduil most likely would have happily yielded to him even if Thorin only wished to use him.

For some reason or another Thranduil felt like he should apologize but when he opened his mouth no words escaped so for a while he just sat upon his haunches staring at the floor in a type of stunned silence waiting for his mind to sort out his feelings. Thranduil knew he cared for Thorin but did the dwarf feel anything at all for him? He looked back up at Thorin who had apparently been staring at him as if he was some type of enigma that needed figuring out.

“Do you…” Thranduil stopped for a moment rethinking his entire question but his mind was begging him to ask and make sure before he fooled himself. “Do you like me? Want me even…? Or would you rather I disappeared from your sight, I know it would be easier if I did exactly that...but is that what you want?” Thranduil paused for a moment. “I realize I have no right to ask this of you, it’s not exactly fair to ask such a question when you are engaged, but it’s because of that fact that I am asking in the first place.”

Thorin had never felt so parched in his entire lifetime. He had never felt such intensity coming from a stare which he knew would follow as with the question which practically suffocated him.

It wasn’t fair to ask him that, and yet it wasn’t fair for Thorin to give into his...

He frowned.

What had come over him? Why did he let himself be swooned so easily?

His heart hammered once more, pounding against his chest. It stung and was stabbed and when Thranduil’s question reached him, his chest felt like a hollow, a cold abyss where ice shards pricked and pierced him with no blood to bleed.

His eyes wiped away the shock and smeared his look of indifference. The look he would put on as king, the look which would protect him from further prodding and from answers he didn’t have the courage to search.

Guilt was eating him away. Not only had he betrayed the promise to his betrothed but he also sinned against him who was fragile physically as well as emotionally. His insides churned at that very thought. He had no right. He shouldn’t have led Thranduil on. He didn’t think Thranduil would respond; he didn’t think *he’d* act in that manner...he didn’t *think* at all!

He had wronged and if it kept on like that, his sin would be too tainted to be washed away by redemption.

He clenched his jaws as Thranduil looked on. His eyes big with genuine curiosity, and flickers of hope. And it was that which hurt Thorin the most...more for what he was about to do.

He opened his mouth and almost suppressed a wince as Thranduil’s eyes shone. However, he steeled himself and he did respond.

“It’s immaterial. My heart should belong to my betrothed,” He saw the shattering of a heart clearly in front of him. He was to blame, it was entirely his fault. It was an impulse, a foolish mistake—one that led to such confusion.

He knew he sounded cold. He *felt* cold but Thorin had no choice. He had to stop himself from complicating matters even further. “I should not have acted with impropriety. I ask for your forgiveness for acting so dishonorably.”

With that, he strode away. He couldn’t bear to look at Thranduil’s face. He couldn’t face the consequences. At that moment, he simply wanted to be alone. He simply wanted to run away.

Thranduil could practically feel his heart freezing over form the cold tone in Thorin’s voice, it hurt more than Thranduil had expected although he had tried to prepare himself for the worse it still set knots in his stomach and made his eyes burn with tears. Thranduil couldn’t move from his position on the floor for some time until he finally found the strength to stand and go back to his room, where he intended to stay.

***

It had been two days since Thranduil had seen Thorin, he had stayed in his room the entire two days and had all his meals sent to him as well so not to have to see him, he was worried he would be overwhelmed by emotion and burst into tears during the meal. He had decided to venture out a little this day and was currently enjoying a small garden close to the inside of the mountain palace. Almost everything was craven stone so the little touch of life was refreshing and it calmed him a little to be near the earth once more.

“Oh morning Your Grace!” Balin smiled warmly upon seeing an unusual presence among such parts of the mountain. Thranduil fluidly turned when Balin approached him but even then, the old dwarf didn’t miss the little startling flinch Thranduil gave off...as if he wasn’t wishing for a company?

He moved closer and gestured to the little path of garden which Thranduil had taken to. His old eyes wrinkled with a bright smile and he started a light conversation with their guest, “I gather you like this bit of surprise? It’s not every day you encounter a stone carver having a little green thumb!”

He noticed the little awkwardness in Thranduil’s features and the onset of a little blush at which he laughed out heartily, startling the elf even more.

When he calmed down again he went on, “It was the queen of Thráin I who had an immense love for nature. In fact, it is said that she was so tired of all the stones and gems around her that she took matters in her own hands and employed some of the finest gardeners and ordered the garden to be built which she tended to herself. It was her life.”

Thranduil looked at the beautiful scenery a moment before turning to the dwarf. “She had a generous talent, most elves intuitively know how to tend the life of Arda, with her being a dwarf with no intuitive knowledge this is truly exceptional.” He commented, the dwarf seemed light and cherry which put Thranduil at ease, he must have been used being around royalty considering he wasn’t tripping over himself like most of the others that encountered him. However the conversation did strike Thranduil as a little odd, he had tried to keep himself scarce so not to put further pressure on Thorin. The incident with Thorin a few days ago tore Thranduil up on the insides, not only the kiss but also their conversation…limiting his contact with others gave Thranduil the ability to focus on other things and he was grateful for any distraction.

“As are you with such generous compliments,” replied the older dwarf with a warm smile, careful enough to keep it in place as the elf returned the gesture.

Balin noted the clear change in attitude and smiled with Thranduil trying to shred off his diplomatic mask. Though it wasn’t the only thing he observed. The little tightness of Thranduil’s jaws while he spoke, the little wistfulness behind his eyes was crisp and clear.

Ignoring the dismal attitude of Thranduil, Balin nodded his head and motioned for the other to take a walk with him in the garden. He was insistent on keeping the conversation alive, almost too much, he thought, though considering the aloofness of the elf, he doubted Thranduil considering his efforts to be trying.

“Yes dwarves are exceptional beings Your Grace contrary to popular belief. We know how to tend life. We appreciate it and hence we nurture it at any cost.” he stated in a soothing voice, guiding his eyes to fall upon the other. His statement caught Thranduil’s attention for there was a hitch in his breath and with it, the tiniest spark of hesitance and memoirs of the past which were instantly invoked. Balin’s eyes were still soft while he spoke but there was an edge in his voice which didn’t go unnoticed by the other, making his eyes flicker with a deep rooted emotion that was too hard for anyone to describe.

Balin had ideas. He had seen that look. He had seen it time after time on many—young and old alike—and he also knew that such looks were the beginning of something either truly great or something wise to be forgotten.

“But at times, the cost is too great to bear.” His eyes were focused upon Thranduil whose demanding glare was no longer hidden. His jaws were clenched with restraint, anger gleaming in his eyes as if ordering Balin to play no more games. But just as Balin’s own eyes hardened with intent, the rage in Thranduil was swiftly wavering along with his belief that it would only be a simple conversation. There was still anger but now addled with confusion and the hints of an understanding which thankfully stared to dawn upon the fallen king.

Balin lowered his head a little, so that he could still have a stern glance set upon the other. Thranduil’s mask was starting to shatter. His eyes started to well up and it was through an admirable amount of will that the elf didn’t completely break down as Balin had expected of him.

There was that look again. That pleading, sacrificing, saddening look given when something of great value slipped through one’s finger. That look which dreamed of ‘what if’ and faced the harsh ‘what is’.

“Did you know what happened to the queen after?” There was no trace of innocence now in Balin’s voce. It was low, purposeful and every bit realistic.

Balin knew that look. And having seeing it again, he was starting to dread it.

At first when Balin invited him for a stroll through the garden it seemed harmless enough but as they walked the conversation took an unexpected turn which made Thranduil take pause and regard Balin intently. Thranduil could feel himself tense immediately at the edge in Balin’s voice as he spoke, the hidden meaning in his words summoning feelings he had been trying so hard to squelch…I gave Thranduil a momentary lapse od grief with the knowledge of never having even a chance to form a relationship with Thorin although he quickly forgot that notion an fixed an angry glance on Balin, just what was this dwarf playing at? He seemed to intuitively know what was going on between him and Thorin and he defiantly knew more than he was letting on and it made Thranduil bristle he didn’t need to be spoken to in riddles and stories. Thranduil had no patience for such tactics and the more he thought about Thorin the more his emotions would spin out of control this conversation needed to end, he had to put a stop to it.

“If you want to ask something of me then just ask…you seem to know exactly why I am here which is curious to say the least considering Thorin had no idea until recently, I understand why you might feel the need to protect him but I have no intention to create problems for him if that is your concern.” Thranduil grit out as he began to take a few steps back although his steps faltered a little a biting pain in his gut halting his steps although he tried to push it aside.

Balin remained unaffected by the harsh nature of Thranduil’s tone. It was expected, the Elven king was certainly no fool and it was hoped that he would catch Balin’s hint. Though, when he mentioned about Balin’s prior knowledge of Thranduil’s cause of stay, something in the older dwarf stirred and he immediately took great care relaxing himself while coming up with a prompt answer.

“But it is only a likely guess for you would never leave your kingdom without al elf consort. That you did only indicates a cause important enough to arrive in Erebor and demand the king’s private counsel with his one other ally. Is it not?”

All the while he replied, he kept on noting Thranduil’s reaction. Every suspicious twitch of his face, each even of his softening features prompted Balin to not only deliver his answer in confidence but with an ease which made Thranduil’s doubt on him lessen with certain gradualness.

It was evident that Thranduil had something on him—something of leverage—but thankfully, he couldn’t see it clear enough to accuse Balin any further. With Balin’s expert words having an effect on him, even he began doubting whether his accusation was even valid before the reasons presented to him.

And thankfully, it was just this confusion which Balin needed. His heart raced when for a moment he thought Thranduil had caught on to him.

As the elf started looking perplexed, Balin’s lips stretched once more to a friendly smile which only added to Thranduil’s confusion.

“My lord, I have not the slightest doubt of your intentions. Though I do not know of them yet but I am sure they mean no harm to us, our king and our kingdom...and I know well that you will ensure it. What I simply want to suggest is that you reach out to me. Let me know what you desire and I will fulfill it, provided it is within my power.”

With Thranduil no longer shooting a glare at him, Balin treaded once more and this time with his inherent softness that warmed any heart, “Thorin’s my friend as well, you know. You can’t blame me for being a little concerned about him.”

With that, he started to leave and waved his hand in a gesture, wanting to escort Thranduil back to his quarters. While he walked, he couldn’t help but throw a few more words with a chuckle, “When you are free and desire some company, I will be glad to provide you with some. Maybe even finish

my tale of Thráin’s wife.”

Thranduil still regarded the other with caution, he still had an underlying suspicion about him but he couldn’t seem to get a fix on what exactly it was so for the moment he dismissed it and allowed the dwarf to escort him back to his rooms.

Thranduil gave a deep sigh. “Why are you being so accommodating to me? You owe me no kindness and I’m not so sure I should willingly accept it either…It’s not that I am not grateful, company would be appreciated…” Thranduil paused for a moment. _‘It’s not *your* company I want though’_ he thought absentmindedly.

Thranduil still had an almost overwhelming desire to see Thorin, it was almost desperate the way he ached to be close to him once more, considering he had never felt this way for Bard so it couldn’t be the simple fact of him possibly being the father of his child…it was something more than that bit he had to push it aside he had to respect Thorin and his decisions. Thranduil shook his head furiously.

“I think I might like to hear the story after all.” Thranduil said swallowing thickly; he wanted a distraction from his own situation.

“But you want shelter and clearly you want accommodation. The king has too many matters to worry about, and I am trying my best to reduce his stress, as best as I can.” They both stopped at Thranduil’s chamber where Balin added as an afterthought, “And yours as well...with what little influence we could share.”

His smile stretched at Thranduil’s alerted look and he quickly replied with a light shake of his head, “Come now laddie, your very face screams out whose company you desire. While my heart aches for you, I must be stern and insist that you extend your interactions with me. You are wise and you do realize my intent and I shall not cover it. And I hope you see the reason behind my actions.”

When the air was tensing up once more, Balin suddenly smiled brightly, washing away the tense and short silence which followed after his words and needless to say, it befuddled Thranduil once more at the sudden change in demeanor of the older dwarf.

“There will be time for tales when you see me more than an acquaintance. I am a lot to take in, I gather and I don’t blame you,” he sounded warm and seemed to as if nothing had transpired between the two just moments ago. “Till then, I shall leave you to rest. Good day My Lord.”

He bowed and left with an odd mix of hope and anticipation in his heart. Thranduil was wise. It was hoped he would use his wisdom for the greater good. Or so *Balin* hoped and that too quite desperately. They had enough conflicts over the past; enough rumors to shatter...Erebor didn’t need one more!


	8. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 8

As he walked through his halls, Thorin couldn’t help but suppress his urge to throttle someone with his bare hands. With all the attention his engagement and marriage had been receiving, Thorin was faced with at least one cheerful face (with an overtly bright smile, he gathered) throwing congratulations at him.

But being the good king he was, he suppressed his cold blooded urges and grinned till his cheeks hurt letting his speed carry him off to somewhere secret and somewhere safe. How he truly missed Gandalf! He realized how horrific he was wishing for the wizard to whisk him off to another incredibly insane adventure but that was how desperate he got at times!

“Oh, bloody—what in the name of Mahal!” He groaned when he bumped against something and immediately cursed himself for not paying attention to where he was going. However at the sound of an apology, his irritation faded away and he whisked his head up without bothering to hide his surprise.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you would be here!” He gestured with his hands and in the process look a mindful look of where he actually was. He deflated only to realize it was near Thranduil’s chamber...where it wasn’t unlikely for the elf to be seen.

***

It had been several days since Thranduil had last seen Thorin although Thranduil had expected this, Thorin’s wedding day was approaching rapidly and it was always a large event when a King was to be married. With Thorin being the new King of Erebor, the hero who reclaimed his birthright, it would probably be grand celebration indeed. Thranduil assumed there was much to do on Thorin’s part and that Thranduil himself was simply a random element in the dwarf’s life right now, nothing more than that so what reason would Thorin have to seek contact with him? Despite the fact he might be carrying his child…that fact apparently didn’t matter. Thranduil shook away those thoughts, the past few days had been spent in relatively peace and Thranduil shouldn’t be selfish in wishing for more, he and his child were safe and being well accommodated and in all honesty that was what he wanted…wasn’t it?

Thranduil left his room intending to visit the garden once more; he had spent most of his time there recently, quietly reading until the evening. He had quite a few visits from Balin although he wasn’t completely opposed to his company; the old dwarf was gentle and kind toward him so it was hard to deny him when he showed up unexpectedly, not to mention his assistance with the apothecary and seamstress. He was actually wearing one of his modified robes currently and he found it more comfortable than his normal attire.

When Thranduil turned the corner he was met with another solid body it startling him so much that he actually fell backward. Thranduil didn’t at first recognize it as Thorin, regardless of the slight curse from the other, immediately so he apologized readily since he wasn’t really paying much attention to his surroundings. When the hand was offered to help him up he took it without hesitation, although upon realizing it was Thorin he quickly withdrew his hand and without the added support it caused Thranduil to fall back once more. He shook of his surprise and Thranduil stood up on his own quickly, trying to recover from the awkwardness of his own creation, adverting his eyes from the dwarf as he did so. It was odd for Thorin was in this part of the palace though; there was nothing in this section but the guest quarters…was he there to visit someone? _‘It can’t be you, it will never be you, so ignore these feelings and be on your way’_ he thought to himself.

“Oh stop being arrogant!” Thorin rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath when Thranduil seemingly chose to keep his arrogance and waddled up on his own legs. He was worried whether he had hurt the child but seeing that Thranduil brushed this awkwardness off, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief...which really lasted for a second as quickly his brows furrowed in confusion when he took in the garment Thranduil was wearing.

He didn’t realize how quickly the weeks had progressed and he chose not to realize the stinging sensation he felt in his chest at the very thought of him not being approached.

Though he quickly wiped off the question in his eyes, he wasn’t swift enough for Thranduil had caught the thread of his curiosity and provided the answer himself.

“Fast grower,” said the elf, placing a gentle hand upon the growing child. The light smile upon his lips infected Thorin as well for he too couldn’t resist showing off his awe at the tenderness of the entire thing.

“Indeed.”

The feeling was inexplicable. It was there—the light flutter in his chest, the welling up of his heart and the pure wonder that there was actually a life borne by this being who was nothing short of being magical!

His lips twitched a moment after when Thranduil asked of his engagement and he couldn’t help but let out a groan which didn’t go unnoticed by the other’s sharp eyes.

“I have had congratulations thrown at me the entire morning. I really could make use of something else other than this matter,” he replied almost in a defeated manner. At the sound of a light chuckle, he glared at the other and made a face speaking clearly of his wanting to be pardoned of any amusement at his expense.

“Really now?” He at last voiced his thoughts which earned Thranduil even further amusement. “It is a wonder how you managed to last till your wedding!”

Thranduil smiled at Thorin’s frustration it was actually nice to have a simple conversation with him and not as awkward as he originally thought. “Elvin ceremonies are a little more private I think, but such an important step in one’s life is always stressful. This will be the one person you will be with for the rest of your life…if you’re lucky.” Thranduil said a slight tinge of sadness in his own voice from the remembrance of his late wife whose untimely death still affected Thranduil a little. Thranduil decided to change the subject. “What brings you here anyway, this seems like the last place you would be.” Thranduil said.

Thorin himself felt something drop in his chest a little at those very words. He didn’t know why but it coming off from Thranduil, it sounded more like a condition than a bond. Or perhaps it was just always there at the back of his mind and now it was finally being *said* out loud.

He blinked and felt relieved when Thranduil decided to change the subject. Thorin was not ready for another of those overbearing sessions they had shared over the past.

Quickly straightening his posture, he replied with an almost jest demeanor, “Is it so unnatural for a king to be found somewhere in his palace?”

His smugness wore off at Thranduil’s disbelieving quirk of an eyebrow and at that, Thorin sighed and shook his head as he admitted, “My feet took me wherever there wasn’t a joyous subject throwing his congratulations at me at every turn.”

He paused a little as a thought came in his mind along with a slight bit of hesitation. Licking his lips, he asked in a low voice, “If you are not too busy, would you join me for a drink?” He quickly added when Thranduil opened his mouth to protest, “Ale for me, water for you. Or something of that sort. I am exhausted and can’t stand any of these people right now.”

Thranduil could immediately feel the hesitation in every muscle of his body, his mind practically screaming at him to say _‘no’_ that it would be best to not spend any more time than absolutely necessary with Thorin but before he could even truly process these facts he had already responded _‘yes’_ and was currently following Thorin’s lead.

“Couldn’t you just lock yourself away in your chamber? Surely not too many would bother you there.” Thranduil said as his own room was always a sanctuary for himself very few would enter without invitation, usually his son or a friend, his council never dared bother him while he was there.

“The king depressed at the thought of uniting with his one true love? Is the lure of your suggestions waning now?” He answered demurely as both were walking towards one of the most private place in the palace.

He came to a halt before a large door carven with many runes and emblems of the past. A light sheet of dust had gathered at the edges of the door, indicating that seldom the chamber was used. And just as he had stood, Thorin’s mind instantly wandered to his past—a time where he used to come here often, stand before the same door He would wait for a cheerful welcoming voice, share laughter, stories, sorrows with none but his own brother.

He stood here frequently after that, wishing to hear that voice if only just once. But the voice didn’t call out and the owner had vanished leaving all but his memories.

He quickly gathered himself and breathed deeply, wanting to shake off his dark thoughts. Once he was confident, he placed is slightly trembling arms on the door and pushed it open, inviting Thranduil in.

“You seem to be doing well,” he said but almost questioningly casually pouring himself a drink and Thranduil some fresh milk he had insisted on keeping there for when he needed to be alone. “I hope the healer is providing what you need.”

Thranduil could sense the somewhat darkened expression the other wore for a brief moment as he followed Thorin inside the old room, which rarely seemed occupied, as he sat and Thorin gave him something to drink while pouring himself a generous amount of ale, Thranduil for a moment missed his daily glass of wine but he would live vicariously through Thorin for a moment if nothing else. He was a little caught off guard when Thorin asked about himself not expecting the dwarf to actually care…he might just be making conversation Thranduil said to himself before answering.

“I’m fine; your healer was able to supply me with everything I need. Apparently the herbs I require produce in abundance here in Erebor. They thrive off sunlight and the thick forest of Mirkwood is not particularly kind to such plant life so it was a little harder to cultivate back home…I was pleased to know that I wasn’t dipping into something hard to come by.” Thranduil said with a shrug sipping his milk, the thick liquid actually very satisfying. He looked up at Thorin who seemed to be relaxing a little from the idle conversation.

Thorin gulped down his first glass without wasting any time and quickly poured himself another one, dismissing the concerned look on Thranduil’s face. He even paid half his focus on what Thranduil described about herbs and sunlight. He did not care about the greenhouse benefits of Erebor as long as it benefited Thranduil!

“That’s good then,” he said, wincing at the burning sensation in his throat when the undiluted ale passed through it. “I was wondering why you weren’t asking these from me. I’m glad that you have found another point of contact.”

His tone was careless, almost stinging with something that tightened his chest as well. He took in another glass. The drink was nice. It relaxed his mind and each swig of it almost numbed the burning feeling he suddenly felt across his chest.

“But good to see such straightforwardness from you.” Another shot. “Least expected but good. I am a busy king and you know it. Good.”

By then, his hands were callous, his tongue slurring his speech. He knew he was close to being intoxicated, he knew well now that his mind started to wander away from the daily tensions and constraints.

Thranduil frowned from the almost purposely offensive tone Thorin was using, as if he was insulted that Thranduil had found another means of obtaining what he needed. “I meant no disrespect and I had already asked you previously and you gave me permission beforehand, so thought it to be all right…if you like I will be more informative in the future.” Thranduil noticed how quickly Thorin was drinking but didn’t bother to say anything about it; dwarfs were practically known for being able to hold their liquor so far be it for Thranduil to say anything about it, he was more than able to drink as much as he pleased.

“I thought…” Thranduil chose his next words carefully. “I thought you wanted to avoid me…I thought it would be easier for you to do that if I limited my contact with you, we haven’t seen each other in days and you just happened to accidently run into me in the hallway…us sharing a drink currently is simply a matter of circumstance and I know that…am I wrong?” Thranduil asked slightly confused, didn’t Thorin imply he could be a very serious problem, had Thranduil misunderstood?

“As did I,” Thorin responded while pouring himself yet another drink. His tongue was already loosening and he fretted over the dangerous waters he could tread once words slipped...and yet, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t control himself and before he could have any idea what was being spoken, his mouth seemed to throw words on its own accord.

“It is a circumstance, as was our night together and anything else when it comes to you!” he gulped thickly and took a steady breath, hoping that he could somehow be more coherent just by rubbing his hand over his face. Most dwarves could hold their liquor well enough. Thorin was a stark exception. Hoping that he could somehow be more coherent just by rubbing his hand over his face.

“Why do you keep doing this to me? Do you like to see me suffer? Do you like thinking about my sleepless nights and restless days? Why should I suffer?”

But the attempt was futile.

“I am to be married. Why do you make me suffer with such cruel hopes?”

Words came out like a raging flow of water—beyond Thorin’s coherence and beyond his control. He now knew no limits, saw no restraint. His heart spoke what it had been denied again and again. His tongue rolled out what it kept so hard to lock behind his mouth.

Finally he looked up with a defeated aura about him. One that had no peace or bliss from his mental torment.

“I am to be married...”

“If I am merely a circumstance to you then it should make it easier for you to ignore me.” Thranduil grit out not liking the fact that Thorin had referred to him as if he was an accident, but as the dwarf continued Thranduil found his momentary anger quickly forgotten. In all honesty the last thing he wanted was to make Thorin suffer, he wanted Thorin to be happy, one of them deserved to obtain happiness at least.

There was such a sadness and desperation in Thorin’s voice that a realization hit Thranduil hard and fast, it was no wonder the knowledge of the upcoming wedding was causing him such stress and all those who would congratulate him were noting but an annoyance he could do without, the marriage was arranged no doubt but that didn’t mean by any circumstances he was happy with the arrangement…and Thorin wasn’t happy, he didn’t want to be married and as the day drew closer it only seemed to make him more miserable. He kept on repeating to himself that he was to be married, as if he was trying to make the situation more genuine.

“You think I am the one to cause you suffering? You think I am happy to be so close to you yet unable to react, if I could I would happily embrace you to comfort you as you apparently need support…but I can’t, you don’t acknowledge me because this marriage prevents you from doing so, thusly I cannot be what you need…I’m not the one you want.” Thranduil said.

Thorin’s eyes suddenly flew open, making him to look at Thranduil who had just then blatantly admitted that whatever Thorin felt was nothing but mutual! His heart leapt at that, skipping beat after beat as those very words echoed in his mind.

“Just the one I need...” he didn’t hear himself say it, he didn’t bother about his bound fate and promise nor did he care as long as his heart screamed thoughts he had held back until that moment.

“You were wrong. We dwarves never frolic. We do love and love once,” he said finally with a soothing and yet exciting bubble of emotions building up within him. His lips almost twitched, wanting to spill the relief and happiness he didn’t know he’d be feeling. He leaned closer to Thranduil and despite an initial resistance, pressed his lips against the others before pulling away and looking intently with a surprising amount of coherence. “As have I”

Thranduil pulled himself away from Thorin though, tears breaching his eyes with the all too familiar sting as his chest ached and his stomach tied in knots. “Don’t Thorin…don’t do this to me.” Thranduil half pleaded with the dwarf that looked at him with such a longing that it made his very knees weak but he couldn’t let this continue as it was.

“Regardless of this pull I feel within me, this ache in my chest when we are apart, and the same swell in my heart when we touch, unfortunately it doesn’t matter…it’s not fair to torture me or yourself by saying such foolish things.” A few tears fell down Thranduil’s cheeks as he looked away from Thorin unable to look him in the eyes. “I’ve already practically condemned myself by foolish actions, you cannot break your engagement Thorin such a thing could have dire consequences and I am not prepared to be the cause of that…and this child, if it’s not yours what then?”

Thranduil looked up seeing sadness and confliction is Thorin’s eyes. “I’m sorry…” Thranduil said not expecting Thorin to lunge at him and kiss him with such an intense passion it made Thranduil’s knees buckle and he fell to the floor, Thorin tumbling down with him

Thorin became aware of Thranduil’s hesitance when the elf retracted himself all so unexpectedly. It would be a lie to say if he wasn’t affected by this gesture. The twisting pain in his chest was very proof of that. He looked on, dark eyes peering into pale ones, boring into them, seeking for any thread of affection that he had seen not a moment ago. He knew it was there. He knew Thranduil had to feel something for the elf said so himself *and* he had seen it.

He was speechless when Thranduil’s very words echoed the helplessness tying himself up and that very sound stung his heart over and over and over again.

But it was true—every single word. There encounter had been nothing but a haste act. The consequences were anything but planned and now that they were here, right then, who was to say it wasn’t another accident, a coincidence...or even right?

Thranduil’s words humbled his longing; they washed away the little rebellious flicker suddenly simmering in him. It was a sudden urge—Thorin told himself, a want to break free of enforced norms. He berated himself for even swaying upon feelings probably arising because of his not-so-sober state.

But the strange tug in his heart...Thorin had no idea why it throbbed to the point of hurting him with each breath he took. He couldn’t explain why Thranduil’s words again emblazoned the flame they doused and he wondered why despite all of that which had been said and done, he couldn’t deny the inexplicable draw that relentlessly pulled him towards Thranduil with a familiarity he was too befuddled to remember.

Then suddenly, before he even knew what he was doing, Thorin threw himself at Thranduil and hungrily smashed his lips against the elf’s, prying them to open with his tongue which sold separately sought entry.

Thranduil twisted his head, tried very hard to move away from the kiss but Thorin pressed on. He knew Thranduil wanted this, he knew the elf longed for it despite the massive restraint he was showing.

Cupping with his hands, Thorin pressed himself against Thranduil and pulled him down even closer. The action caused both of them to crumple onto the floor in a mess but Thorin was beyond care. The fire was now blazing in his heart and mind, lighting the urges that lay dormant within him for so long.

He took a moment and looked down. Thranduil’s wide eyes came to view as the elf was looking at him with shock and disbelief. His lips were parted slightly, gasping for breath. Dejection tinted the elf’s face but that was not all that was splayed upon it. There was something else like a spark or a glitter behind those quivering eyes.

Thorin looked on, him still atop Thranduil, both his arms on either side of Thranduil’s head supporting his own weight while he dangerously ghosted upon Thranduil’s face.

He felt the rise and fall of the elf’s chest, his face feeling hot breath brushing against it while his own exhales were just as much erratic.

Gradually after what it felt like hours, Thranduil’s eyes started shrinking to normalcy, mudding whatever thoughts Thranduil had in his mind.

Yet Thorin didn’t move. This time more because of reality hitting him along with the sharp bite of his conscience. It was foolish. Thranduil was with child—possibly not fathered by him. Thorin had a realm to look after without any further scandal and with a perfect wife promised to him during his childhood. It was foolish and wrong...but then, why did his heart flutter still? Why did he still hope for any sign that would fuel the rebellious urges which awoke in him that day? Why did he begin to lean towards the other, brushing his lips once more on those wet, colored cheeks? He had to stop, he needed to stop- so then why *couldn’t* he?

He startled suddenly when he observed averted blue orbs ever so slowly lifting up at him before falling on his lips. Then, Thranduil lifted them up once more and as he settled his gaze upon Thorin, the dwarf could see the veil before them drawing away revealing the exact spark they had about them.

Thorin’s heart skipped beat after beat and his breath quickened as once more that strange and yet familiar tension settled in his chest. He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop from leaning in even further.

Their lips brushed, touched lightly, pecked and pulled away and then repeating it all over again before finally pressing against each other—this time, more hungrily, and more willingly.

Thranduil’s thoughts drifted as he felt his body being slowly devoted by the heat that was atop him, the weight settling easily upon him in an almost comforting way, like thick heavy blankets being placed upon you with a snowstorm blowing outside, the chill that threatened you so forcibly slowly ebbing away into nothing but warmth and comfort. He tried to resist it at first; the lips that so fervently sought his that when thwarted would brush and suckle upon his neck and face…but then to look into those eyes, they were filled with smoldering fire as the helplessness to concede to this desire, this need, consumed Thranduil entirely.

Thranduil could remember this heat, this passion, the night he had shared with Thorin was hardly memorable due to his hazed and clouded mind but he did remember the sensations, bits and fragments falling into a somewhat coherent state which forced his body to react accordingly…however, still in the back of his mind he knew this was wrong, it was even worse than their first encounter because he could not blame this on his heat cycle. Thranduil was in sound enough mind to know exactly what he was doing, but he wanted it so desperately he was trying to banish the thoughts away with all his might although it only left him with conflicted feelings and emotions of being ashamed and enthralled all at the same time.

The emotions raging inside him stung the back of his eyes as tears fell silently, he could feel Thorin’s lips on the back of his eyelids slowly kissing them away. Thranduil unconsciously reached forward grasping the tunic and pulling him forward into another kiss, his hands unable to stop themselves from exploring the strong body before him, tugging at pulling at his clothing removing them in an almost awkward fashion although it seemed to go unnoticed by the other as he assisted them both to disrobe.

Thranduil was actually able to admire and stare for a moment at Thorin, to truly see him in all his glory. Battle scars marred the sculpted body, thick hair upon his chest and trialing down between his legs, large hands and strong arms and legs that would flex and strain at the slightest movement, Thorin was truly magnificent. Thranduil wished to burn this image of Thorin into his mind and never forget it, his hands sought out Thorin’s body and mapped out every inch of him.

Thorin craned his neck in pure pleasure as fervent hands roamed all over him, the heat in between his legs doubling when slender fingers rolled over fabric and skin. Suddenly, in a fluid motion, the wandering stopped and a fistful of his clothes was clenched by those same hands, now strong and trembling with haste, pulling and tugging clearly with desperation to do away with them.

In response, Thorin’s own hands started untying the knots of Thranduil’s tunic and breeches. He wildly tugged at the elf’s clothing, frowning in frustration when neither his nor the other’s came off.

His fingers tangled with those of Thranduil’s in the process. Hands brushed and shoved with dire urgency before Thranduil briskly pulled Thorin’s clothes and peeled them away from his body, even throwing it at one corner of the chamber joined by his own.

Thorin felt the hot throbbing desire starting to take him over as he was admired by the other. The lust in Thranduil’s gaze which he took in every bit of the dwarf was something so significant and powerful that drove Thorin to the brink of madness and when hot palms felt each and every muscle on his bone, Thorin could take no more.

He quickly swooped down and claimed Thranduil’s lips sucking hard—fast and slow—relishing the low moans and purrs emitted from the other as his tongue rolled and clashed with Thranduil’s own. His hands settled on the pectorals of the elf’s chest, rising and falling with it before they gently started massaging each area with gradually increasing applied pressure, trailing their way to the darker flesh taut with excitement.

Thranduil’s scent infiltrated his senses, numbing his mind and shunning away all the nay-saying voices he was hearing for just a moment. The rich, sweet, thick scent was pure Thranduil, enticing and strong, which begged to be inhaled more than once and with each intake of it, Thorin’s heart skipped a beat only to pound harder against his chest while he dangled on the edge of a maddening ecstasy.

He knew this feeling. He had had it before. He distantly remembered how overwhelming it was and how vulnerable he became whenever it had surrounded him.

He frowned lightly when his lips felt wet trailing down Thranduil’s cheeks and his hands stopped fondling Thranduil’s body as once more a pang of guilt washed over him. Yes, it was wrong. He was being unfair, they had no future and he was soon to be married. It was wrong. It was against all the promises he made to his forefathers but still, somehow it didn’t matter to him now. With Thranduil. It didn’t feel righteous but the pain and the heat all over him...

He gasped when a hand grasped his member, stroking it with a deliberate and cruel slow pace and just as the thoughts appeared in Thorin’s head, submerged without a trace as lust and want once more filled him.

He pressed his body against Thranduil’s—carefully and ardently—and as he came in contact with the other’s flushed and sweaty skin, a sudden jolt of pain hit his spine and settled on his swelling appendage, pleading for attention.

The mix of pain and pleasure was tremendous, lifting him up and crashing him down mercilessly. His lips pecked Thranduil’s kiss-swollen ones, suckling on his neck before wrapping upon one of Thranduil’s nipples. His tongue played with it, brushed it lovingly before beginning to suck hard all the while his other palm busied itself with the other area.

He felt Thranduil arching up when Thorin rubbed his thumb and index finger over the hardened patch of skin and in process, Thranduil’s own hard member pressed against Thorin’s inner thighs. As it did, the dwarf grunted and exhaled heavily, arching his bag and grinding his hips further against Thranduil, quivering as electric jolts travelled up and down his spine as a result of the intimate contact.

Thranduil was lost in a sea of sensation and emotions as he allowed himself to simply feel everything for a moment, the moist lips that claimed his own, large calloused hands touching him everywhere, the heat of another’s body pressed against his own, their sweat slicked flesh melding into each other as if to become one being. He was jolted back to reality when Thorin stopped suddenly, the touches and sensations stopping so abruptly that it shocked him a little. He looked up confusion clearly upon his face but upon seeing the guilt plaint etched across Thorin’s brow and deep shame in his eyes, Thranduil knew why it had stopped.

Thranduil’s heart wrench in his chest…and he knew that if he was ever put a stop to this madness then now was the time but he simply couldn’t do that, he knew how incredibly selfish it was of him to want more and to accept more but despite the pain he felt in his heart he couldn’t deny himself this bittersweet pleasure. Thranduil knew he could never have him, not truly, that Thorin would never claim him as his own but that was all right. Thorin was being gracious enough to give him this moment, this time, and Thranduil could carry this with him for the rest of his days to recall and comfort him. Thranduil may never be able to call Thorin *his* but for this moment this time there was no other.

Thranduil reached out and grasped Thorin’s arousal and began to give him strong and even strokes that brought Thorin out of his momentary guilt and he began to practically devour Thranduil once more. Thorin slid further down Thranduil’s body forcing him to release the hard erection as he allowed Thorin to explore and taste him as much or as little as he pleased…he felt the gentlest kiss upon the small swell in his abdomen and it sent a chill through his body as a warm hand caressed it soothingly. While the gesture was pleasant Thranduil couldn’t tolerate it nonetheless. He turned around quickly offering himself to Thorin explicitly, he wanted to forget as quickly as possible the sweet gesture and have Thorin inside him.

_‘let me lose myself with you…one last time.’_

Thorin didn’t miss the darkened gaze falling upon Thranduil—one which dictated lust and wanton—stimulating him, churning his core and making him hotter with desires burning in him. And when Thranduil turned over, Thorin’s eyes quickly became pinned on the desired entrance and his member twitched and throbbed, almost weeping to feel the tight muscles pulling in him before his ultimate release.

_'Not yet'_

Aroused as he was, Thorin had to practice self control. He was well aware how rare the moment was and how it could be potentially their last time together which only made him want to prolong the moment and take in all of Thranduil as a memory which he’d relish over and over again.

He spooned Thranduil from the back, stroking the child very lightly before his fingers drew precarious patterns on the elf’s chest. At that, Thranduil squirmed and the way his body curved and moved titillated Thorin beyond imagination. He shivered when flushed skin brushed against his own, and lowered his head at Thranduil’s entrance.

His breath hitched and fell heavily with a torrent of emotions swirling within his chest. The delay was not deliberate but it did plenty to heighten both of their anticipation. A little grunt was heard before Thranduil impatiently bucked his hip, not wanting to wait for any longer. Thorin took it as a hint and succumbing to his own excitement, he gently flicked his tongue, rimming Thranduil in circular motions, often letting it dart on its outskirts while one of his hands slid down on Thranduil’s shaft, gently resting upon it for a long while.

The light gasp echoing in the room was all he ever needed for after a moment Thorin’s tongue ventured deeper, probing more and more, brushing against soft walls, wetting the passage where his shaft throbbed and pleaded to be inserted.

Soon, Thranduil began rocking his body, moaning and whimpering with every touch upon his chest, stomach and member, causing Thorin’s hand to fall and clench, restlessly wanting to be holding something, crumpling something just to soothe the pressing sensations making his heart pound.

The frustration was overwhelming. The heat between his legs began increasing, the pain starting to get alarming. It wanted release, it needed Thranduil.

Like sunrays through a fog, it suddenly became clear to Thorin. He finally understood the familiar and vague sensation which plagued him whenever he was with Thranduil. Indeed he had felt it before. It was the same pull which drowned him in awe of the creature before him. It was the same emotion which stirred lust, desire and something much more powerful each and every time the elf was near.

It wasn’t the liquor as Thorin had told himself repeatedly from their coincidental encounter. It was something much more fundamental.

Pulling his face away Thorin breathed heavily as he traced the wet area with one of his fingers. Oh how he wished to be inside, to feel what he felt so many nights ago but this time, it would only be him. There would be no other. Thranduil would be *his*.

A hand joined his own which still rested upon Thranduil’s hardened member and before Thorin could comprehend, he felt it guiding his palm and squeezing it, almost forcing him to stroke rough and hard.

Without giving it any further thoughts, he rammed a strong finger in the warm entrance quickly joined by another one. The feeling was beyond any definition. Just as he had imagined, it was nice and warm. Thranduil’s muscles immediately contracted around him and as his finger twisted further deeper, he felt gentle sways of the other and the sweet resultant friction which pushed his mind towards an ecstatic bliss.

Another finger joined the other two, pulling and stretching Thranduil, ensuring that the elf would be able to take him without much discomfort. Only he knew how much he had to keep himself under control when all he wanted was to ram and thrust hard.

Thranduil grunted something and started wildly jutting his hips.

Then again, perhaps the feeling was mutual.

Thranduil was slightly disappointed that Thorin did not take him immediately, but the sweet motion of his body against his own and the increasingly aggressive and bold fondling continued and sent his mind into another wave of bliss, so lost in the current sensation that he was completely unprepared for when Thorin went down upon him but instead of taking his member into his mouth he seemed to have other ideas entirely.

When Thorin’s tongue met his entrance Thranduil’s entire body arched a scream being lost in his throat as he could only moan in approval, he wanted more though as this was simply not enough to satisfy this burning a seething passion that nestled deep in the pit of his stomach. He had held Thorin’s thick shaft in his hand, so hot and hard in his grasp he wanted only one thing as to feel it inside him, but Thorin’s teasing continued. Thranduil felt a hand grasp his member and it joined in rhythm with the swirling of a tongue delving deeper inside him making him see stars…but it still wasn’t enough.

When Thorin drew away slightly Thranduil grabbed his hand and forced him to stroke his member all the more, faster and rougher than his previous ministrations. Soon Thranduil was rewarded with a thick digit inside of him making his writhe in pleasure as another was inserted making him arch and grind into the fingers as they twisted inside him.

“More.” Thranduil said breathlessly, not sure if Thorin even heard him as his hips began to buck almost uncontrollably. He mumbled in elvish, begging Thorin to take him and claim him for this night.

Those words though foreign to his ears sounded mystical like the creature before him. Thranduil had his head partly turned towards him.

Thorin’s breath hitched in his throat. With his hair framing his flushed face and wide shining eyes, Thranduil looked every bit of what the lore and fables painted regarding his kin. And he knew then, whatever would happen after, whatever would be their fate, Thorin would never ever regret what they were sharing at that very moment.

His chest burbled with thrill and excitement; every pore of his skin never felt so sensitive as heat radiated from his body and pooled at his nether region. His resolve to hold himself finally crumbled and no longer able to ignore his carnal nature, Thorin quickly took out his fingers and replaced them with his appendage pushing it hard, letting it delve in as much depth as it could. Once more, he grunted pleasurably as the sweet tight sensations surrounded his member, elating him to great heights. He relished it, his neck craning and mouth hanging ajar out of reflex.

More.

He pulled away, ignoring some more foreign words escaping the others lips and felt the contours of Thranduil’s body as he pushed in once more. His thrusts slowly increased pace. His hand started jerking Thranduil’s own intimate area, stroking it with extreme impatience as he himself rocked, moaning and sighing as muscles contracted around him while he penetrated even deeper.

More.

Thranduil couldn’t suppress a deep moan when Thorin finally succumbed and penetrated him hard and fast, the awareness nearly made Thranduil collapse from the force of the intrusion but he managed to stay upright and accept him completely. He could feel Thorin’s lips dance across his skin as he began to push back meeting the dwarf’s thrust with enthusiasm. When as hand wrapped itself around his own arousal Thranduil was nearly undone but he staved off the oncoming climax as much as he was able, he wanted to savor this moment as long as he was able.

Thranduil turned his head and looked into the smoldering eyes of Thorin. This magnificent dwarf…his for this moment and it was brilliant. He could feel Thorin’s hands tightening on his waist as his thrusts became a little more erratic than usual as well as his almost frenzied strokes upon Thranduil. It felt wonderful and Thranduil allowed himself a blessed release spilling himself into Thorin’s hand while crying out his name.

Thorin let out a deep breath with one final shove and stilled for a moment. He had finally impaled Thranduil, who looked simply ethereal gazing back at him with a content and awe spilling from his expressive orbs. He his moist lips parted slightly to take in some air combined with those pushed cheeks brought so much turmoil in Thorin’s chest that the dwarf eventually found it hard to breathe and stay still.

Now he no longer cared for the world, he no longer needed the feel to be humbled by norms and expectations. He finally unlocked the secret because of which he gravitated towards Thranduil helplessly. It was something more than mere attraction; it was elemental.

He loved him.

He began rocking again faster this time, wrapping an arm around Thranduil’s waist to pull the elf closer to him who willingly obliged. His mind was starting to slip towards the murkier side of his consciousness. His body stared trembling; his other hand became more and more callous, jerking and stroking Thranduil greedily.

His eyes slowly started rolling back, his neck craned and back arched with the onset of his urge for complete lack of control. His whole body started trembling, his mind went blank and when something streaming and hot jetted itself on his hand, Thorin could hold back no more as he came brilliantly inside of Thranduil with a gushing force that soared him high and above.

Thranduil was unable to hold himself up any longer and he collapsed to his side while riding the waves of his orgasm in blissful oblivion, but the sweetness of the situation was always so sort lived. He could feel Thorin behind him, one arm still possessively wrapped about his waist as he stayed still and enjoyed the closeness of the other for a moment longer before he forced himself to pull away, which took more effort that he originally thought.

As Thranduil began to pull his cloths back on melancholy settled in his heart, why did he always have to be so foolish? Allowing himself this memory pleasure was not the right decision but somehow he still couldn’t help himself, even in the aftermath and guilt he still wanted Thorin to hold him and love him…but if felt too selfish to do such a thing to him, Thorin had more important things to concern himself with. Thranduil wasn’t sure what compelled him to speak but he thought he should say something.

“I’m…” He hesitated as he looked at Thorin unsure and upon not seeing guilt in the other’s eyes but a type of adoration as he gazed upon him making Thranduil’s heart swell and flutter, was it really all just wishful thinking that Thorin might actually feel something for him? Was it possible that he at least didn’t regard him as an annoyance, the he actually wanted *him* and not just his body. Something inside Thranduil tugged at his heart strings and it compelled him to apologize. “I’m sorry about this…I never meant for things to go that far…I just wanted…” He looked at Thorin and sighed deeply. “Would it be simply terrible if I said it was you that I wanted?” He said softly.

Thorin startled into awareness when he felt the warmth of another’s body receding away from him. He was all the more shocked and didn’t deny the twang of disappointment in his heart when he saw Thranduil wasting no time and putting his clothes on.

Did he not mean a single word he said? Was it all a farce then?

But then when he turned back with confusion, whatever doubt Thorin had washed away quickly and he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved and empathy for the elf.

Thranduil was afraid. Thorin could see the hesitation and *fear* in him and that melted his heart. Did Thranduil believe that Thorin wanted nothing more to do with him? He supposed it was a valid concern, given that the reality awaiting them outside the chamber. But truthfully, he shunned away the reality for the moment. He knew what he had done and why and felt no shame.

But immediately later, Thorin came close to a frown. Why had he apologized?

His furrow dissipated as Thranduil spoke once more after seemingly gathering up courage. And when he spoke, Thranduil had none of his usual confidence in his tone. All he had was honesty and expected some in return.

And what he said brought so much peace in Thorin that he couldn’t help but smile a little.

“It wouldn’t.” Granted he wasn’t forthcoming with his feelings or articulation of them. But when Thranduil’s face reflected him pondering, Thorin elaborated as best as he could, “For it is only you that I want and I suppose, have always wanted.”

Thranduil adverted his eyes as they welled with tears and Thranduil himself unable to suppress a small smile of relief and longing to hear those things from Thorin. After a moment though Thranduil couldn’t help but frown as he leaned against the heavy doors, the outside world that would force him from Thorin’s side just beyond them.

“I think it is terrible…because nothing has changed, not today, not tomorrow, and with every passing day you will be pulled farther away from me. I never meant for any of this to happen, had I not been so foolish in my actions I would have never returned to this mountain and wouldn’t have realized these feelings for you.” Thranduil chocked back a sob as he looked at Thorin with tear filled eyes. “I wanted to respect your decision I told myself countless times that I had no choice…but it’s simply not fair, why must I respect something that forces me to sacrifice my love for you…”

Thranduil wasn’t sure what compelled him to pour his hear out to Thorin but it seemed as if he didn’t say these things now he would not be given another opportunity to say them…and he did love Thorin, he loved him more than he had thought possible.

tightness across his chest while he began pulling on his own clothes.

Thranduil’s speech was stinging him to the point that he couldn’t even look at the elf anymore. He had never seen the elf to be so open about his feelings; he had seen Thranduil’s pride, his arrogance, aloofness and vanity...but never vulnerability. Now that he had, it stabbed him brutally.

It was as if something heavy was settled on his eyelids, forcing him to look down or away whenever he tried taking a glance at Thranduil. But when the other’s voice cracked, his stoniness did as well.

“And yet you did.” He was surprised at how breathless he himself sounded. As if just a bit of volume in his tone would increase the agony in his chest and just by breathing his lungs would fuel the already simmering fire of his understanding.

He quickly took a deep breath and when Thranduil blinked up at him, he covered himself with his stoic shield hoping it would lessen the burn in his heart. Whatever amount of sadness he had in his face was wiped away swiftly without leaving behind any trace and his expressions molded into one of strength and resolve, a steady fire burning behind his coal black eyes.

“What will you do to that which you cannot accept?” His tone was grave and deep, smoldering with the same flicker which sparked in his heart the urges of breaking free from all that which had been holding him captive. “You forbade me to break my promise and yet you cannot accept the consequences. Will you let it be or will you fight and claw for it?”

He could see shock marring Thranduil’s expression as he bristled with a sudden indignity. His fists clenched and unclenched by his side and his jaws tightened as if he tried very hard not to lash out at Thorin and his supposed accusations. But Thorin hoped Thranduil would eventually see what he meant. Thorin was bound by law and custom. He had no reason to cause chaos and scandal if the one he loved didn’t wish to take his fiancé’s place. He had Bard already making arrangements for him to leave. Thranduil’s stay was temporary and the elf king made sure of that.

He had no choice, they had no future. Rumors would circulate, Thranduil and his child would be affected equally as or perhaps even more than Thorin.

Thorin was a king—a new ruler who had his duties towards his people, his honor, his forefathers’ honor. He couldn’t go back on his word. He couldn’t dishonor his people and ancestors by breaking his marriage at the very last moment. He would want nothing more than to be with Thranduil and maybe even...even be a father to the child he bore. But would it all be worth it against a kingdom of ashes whose very foundation had been honor?

Blazing orbs were still looking at him, demanding a proper explanation which Thorin denied at the moment. They would need to think about it. They would need time and a clear mind before leaping into any decision.

“Not everything is just, you should know better than any one of us here. Some choices seem unjust and difficult. But nothing is done by force.”

Hence no matter how his eyes started to burn, no matter how increasingly difficult it became to speak Thorin managed to keep a facade of composure. He rose and passed Thranduil’s bewildered form with his final words. “You always have a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	9. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 9

 

Thranduil had contemplated Thorin’s words for hours once he had returned to his own room later in the day. It was almost as if Thorin wanted Thranduil to give him that little push that he needed to break off the engagement, something valid enough to call it off. He told Thranduil he had a choice but it defiantly was not an easy one and Thranduil wasn’t so sure he wanted to be a catalyst for such a scandal. Not to mention he wasn’t so sure it was safe either, it was possible that he would be accepted and if the child was Thorin’s there was no doubt in Thranduil’s mind it would be accepted as children were cherished above all else in dwarf society…but if he wasn’t accepted it could ruin Thorin and without an heir what would become of the Durin line? Breaking off the engagement didn’t seem like something that should be his choice anyway.

A knock to his door broke him from his thoughts and as soon as he allowed entrance a young page delivered him letter which had been sent from Dale, he immediately dismissed the young dwarf and read the letter although he felt his mouth go dry at the contents. It was of course from Bard with news that he would be able to arrange a safe and secure passage to the shire where a home would was already prepared and waiting for him when he arrived but the convoy would take a little over two months as certain preparations would take time. Thranduil shook his head at that though, two months was too long it wouldn’t be two weeks before traveling would be dangerous…he would be too far into his pregnancy by then. It was almost too late as it was now, he really shouldn’t be doing *any* extensive traveling but it couldn’t be helped.

“Useless men!” He screamed to the empty room, anger flared up inside him as he grabbed his small luggage bag and began to pack his limited supplies he had brought with him. If Bard couldn’t help him so be it! He could take care of himself, he had to learn to take care of this on his own, and he never should have relied on him in the first place! Bard said the residence was already prepared so all he needed to do was to arrive and then he could have this child in peace.

It startled him when his chamber door opened once more without so much as a knock revealing Thorin who was looking at him quizzically probably due to his packing up his belongings.

Thorin was met with two of his already startled guardsmen bowing at him as he made way towards Thranduil’s chamber. They were placed more for security than for any other purpose and seeing said security completely taken aback and looking at the door with wide and curious eyes really made him wonder what could have happened for his guards to be startled.

He lifted his chin and dismissively glanced at the other two before gesturing for them to leave. The guards gladly did as told and practically scurried off to some other part of the palace making Thorin raise his brows with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Wasting no further time, he gave the door a push and strode in only to have his eyebrows reaching for his hairline at what he saw.

The room was in utter chaos—clothes lying on every inch of the bed, covering it with their length than number in utter disarray as if a storm had blown over it. Soon after, his eyes squinted with extreme curiosity and settled upon a heaving figure whose hair flicked hard and splayed against the air as a sharp turn brought Thorin face to face with a red face and wild unprepared gaze.

However, Thorin said nothing. Rather he had now words to express the astonishment he felt at that time...or was it a slight bit of apprehension from having to hear what he wished to avoid hearing? Regardless, he landed his eyes upon the clothes and then brought them up at Thranduil before narrowing them with silent enquiries.

What on earth did Thranduil intend to do?

For a moment Thranduil did nothing simply met Thorin’s gaze and allowed himself to enjoy it before he shook off his stupor and went back to the task at hand. “I know this seems sudden but I need to leave now if I ever intend to do so at all…I was not meant to be a permanent guest in the first place, if possible I will be bound to the shire by this evening.” Thranduil said hurriedly. He really didn’t bring much of anything with him so he didn’t have much to gather before he left.

He felt the all too familiar tug in his chest when Thorin was close to him once more, and it made him weak, he found himself wanting to stay here in Erebor just so he could stay close to Thorin…but him leaving did make things much easier on them both. Thranduil could try and forget their passionate encounter where words of want and love would no longer plague his thoughts and no choice had to be made, he could push it all away from him mind and never think of it again and Thorin could get married he could seal himself away from any type of responsibility just as Bard had inadvertently done…he could take care of himself.

Thorin felt it—the same pull in his heart, the same dull throb and the feeling of losing himself once more as those deep eyes sucked him in to oblivion. He jerked just as Thranduil seemed to engage in a sudden startling motion. However, when Thranduil didn’t so much as take a second glance at him, Thorin’s chest felt twisting against his breastbone wanting to tear away a large chunk of his flesh as it finally sink in.

This evening? Thranduil was leaving this evening? No, no he couldn’t leave. How could he? Bard had not been back, there was no convoy and surely Thranduil had no compulsion to leave unless—

He clenched his fists by his side, a searing heat overtaking his body scorching him from inside as he made a likely conclusion.

Unless...it was by choice.

He opened his mouth but felt no words escaping from his parched throat.

If Thranduil wanted to leave, then who was he to stop?

The pain in his chest was now too great to even croak up a sound. The crisp coldness with which Thranduil made his intention clear bit Thorin’s skin so brutally that it made even the cold winter of Caradhras seem mild.

At that moment, he felt nothing but void where his heart should’ve been only to feel the merciless heat of a thousand furnaces. His fists clenched even tighter till his knuckles turned white. His body began to tremble minutely as it took him tremendous amount of energy to keep himself from screaming at the other for the unfair choice he imposed upon himself...and on Thorin.

He didn’t think at that moment, he couldn’t! All that kept ringing in his ears was that Thranduil had to stay. He *had* to be stopped from leaving as Thorin knew that if Thranduil did, he would never return and that very thought singed the dwarf king.

He didn’t even realize speaking until Thranduil stilled entirely.

“The Shire? Those people can hardly protect themselves and you expect them to protect you from danger? There is always danger and you expect them to protect you— both of you? I have been to the Shire. I have seen how timid and horribly ill-equipped they are so much to even wield a paper cutter! You will not leave. You will not and I won’t allow it. You cannot leave me.”

He didn’t have the mind to process what he said, he didn’t have the control of his tone that perhaps sounded commanding yet frantic but honestly, he didn’t care. He felt desperate. He felt loss and the dire need to keep it from happening. He needed Thranduil there, in Erebor, in his palace, in front of his eyes and if his mouth decided to move on its own accord, then so be it.

Thranduil looked at Thorin completely at a loss of what he had just said; it was almost as if he was commanding it even though Thranduil was anything but under his command. Thranduil softened a little thought when he realized Thorin sounded more like he didn’t want to be separated and in all honestly Thranduil wanted that too, he didn’t want to be parted from Thorin he wanted desperately to remain by his side but with every passing day it would only become more difficult and he simply couldn’t wait for Bard…Thranduil glanced at the letter on his bedside table.

“Oh…” Thranduil said softly realizing Thorin didn’t know the reason for his hasty wish to depart, he didn’t know about Bards practical failure to prepare a suitable convoy. “I would rather stay believe me in that but…” He grabbed the letter and handed it to Thorin who seemed to read it slowly. “Two months, I simply cannot wait that long you see, I shouldn’t be traveling as I am now but it would be almost impossible for me two months from now…if I wait that long I would not be able to leave until well after the birth.” Thranduil explained and he could see a small flash of relief cross Thorin’s features but then it quickly turned to concern.

Thranduil chose his next words carefully as he came a little closer to Thorin. “I don’t *want* to leave you, I could never want that.” He said softly just above a whisper

Thorin was short of snatching the letter from Thranduil’s hands and despite his extreme urge to crumple it and devour every word, his courtesy kept him from doing that although he imprinted every word in the content like it was an urgent piece of news.

As he read through, his features subconsciously became less tense with his muscles relaxing along with the turmoil in his heart. He didn’t know whether it was his cynical mentality or his selfishness but once he knew Bard had failed to help Thranduil, that the elf couldn’t risk delaying and that he would have a great amount of that if Thorin provided it making him stay, he felt so relieved.

Thranduil’s voice brought him back to attention. He looked up from the letter and at the other who had certain softness about his glance. As if he could see through Thorin and his intentions with an empathy and adoration without any tinge of hatred in him. Thranduil understood and that perked that little bit of hope Thorin preserved somewhere deep within his heart.

“Then don’t,” he rasped, breathing deeply as Thranduil came closer and leaning against the hand on his cheek as if it was the most natural thing to do. His eyes flickered as Thranduil leaned in till his breath touched Thorin’s lips. There was a strange light behind his bright orbs, one borne out of a strange hue of emotions that didn’t spare Thorin’s heart which started beating erratically.

He lifted his face, moving it minutely so that his lips grazed over a pair of warm ones parting as they brushed against each other. Thorin felt sender fingers travelling up his nape and gently caressing his scalp before holding him steady. In response, his own hands brushed against the length of Thranduil’s arms feeling the gentle slope of his shoulder blades and again travelling up and around his waist. Their breathes clashed as lips pecked softly, before Thorin pressed them firmer and firmer still until there was nothing else beneath except for an identical pair upon which he fervently suckled.

Thranduil could feel himself instantly relaxing from the words he had wanted to hear leave Thorin’s lips. He wanted him to stay he had given him permission to here in Erebor…he wasn’t entirely sure if it was the right thing to do but it was what he truly wanted and what Thorin seemed to want as well. Thranduil couldn’t help but lean ever closer to this warmth and acceptance as their breath mingled and lips brushed against one another. He reached forward his hand traveling Thorin’s neck resting comfortably on the back of the dwarfs head.

Their kiss was first brief and then was more passionate and longer. He was pulled in close and al the emotions from the previous day came rushing back hitting Thranduil’s senses like a wave crashing against the bank. He instinctively went to his knees if only to be held closer and more completely by Thorin. Their kiss ended for a short while both panting and gasping a little as they held one another close.

Thranduil hated to spoil the mood but he had to ask Thorin one question. “Are you sure it is all right for me to stay? At this time there is an option but that choice will soon be taken away…I cannot have you change your mind later. Promise me, give me your word.” Thranduil said needing the assurance that later Thorin would not try and remove him, he needed the assurance that once he was too heavy with child he could still stay…that Erebor would be his safe haven to give birth to this child.

Thorin pulled the elf close, against his body, against his chest where he should be. Thranduil’s scent and feel soothed him to a great degree and their lips met once more in such a needy manner as if they had been deprived of each other for an eternity.

When they finally pulled apart, Thorin closed his eyes in pure satisfaction as he attempted to regain his breath back. He opened them a moment later at Thranduil’s addressing concern. Just by the manner of which Thranduil spoke, just the look he had in his glazed orbs spoke volumes of how much he sought approval and more so assurance. The fear of being turned away only attested what shame Thranduil had to have suffered at the hands of his own people and that truly wrenched Thorin’s guts. It shook Thorin to the core so much that his cold exterior wavered even for a while at which, Thranduil clearly felt some kind of an answer which made his eyes to shine.

“You have my word.” Even if he had any trace of doubt left, Thorin’s firm nod and his solemn words wiped them away without leaving any smudge of it behind. Adding to that, Thorin gently brushed away a strand of Thranduil’s long hair and said, “You will have no need for fear and confinement. You will, I hope, make yourself at home or at least be at ease with other parts of my palace.”

Their moment was interrupted with a soft knock on the door prompting both of them to straighten for whoever it was.

The door swung to reveal a seasoned figure who calmly glanced at both his king and his guest before Balin spoke softly, “Thorin, the representatives of Ironhills await your presence.”

Thorin nodded and excused himself from Thranduil. Before he left, the older dwarf settled a long and meaningful glance at Thranduil and then without a word, he followed his king to the throne room.

Thranduil unconsciously shifted a little under the gaze of the older dwarf, Balin was sharp old dwarf and he and Thorin were both a little too close to one another, close enough to make Balin curious but thankfully he said nothing and Thranduil watched for moment the retreating back of the one he held so dear and close to his heart…Thranduil was more than pleased, for the first time in a long time he truly felt safe, he needed to send word to Legolas and Bard soon of this new arrangement but for the moment he simply wanted to bask.

***

Balin as well aware of the steely cold gaze he was being thrown as Thorin stood stiffly before one among a certain number of dwarves. It was clear as day that he was extremely taken aback by one he had least expected to visit and as she smiled sweetly and introduced herself to him, Thorin’s mind was not hard to read while it demanded to know such an unwanted surprise.

“I wasn’t aware of your arrival My Lady,” he said politely, kissing her hand as a formal gesture. Much to Balin’s relief, Thorin had excellent control upon his body language and his unwillingness didn’t reflect upon his demeanor at all. “Had I known, I would have arranged something that could ease your travel here.”

Asta smiled sweetly at Thorin. “I must apologize for not sending word; I hope it is not too much of an inconvenience.” She said looking at Thorin for the first time in ages, their engagement had been arranged since they were both young children and they had only met once before, and had yet to even have a proper courtship. She was more than curious to see her soon-to-be husband and managed to convince her kin to allow her to accompany them and it was such a hasty request they were unable to send word ahead of time.

Even though he was probably surprised he hid it well and was courteous and diplomatic to her presence, accepting her with ease and grace, which made the dwarf maiden blush slightly with the formal kiss to her hand. “The journey was not troublesome at all…” She wanted to speak with him more but knew that the other representatives were waiting to be addressed as well so she quieted herself to allow the King of Erebor to speak.

“I am pleased to have you here Lady Asta. I hope you find your stay enjoyable,” Thorin replied graciously noting a subtle satisfaction both his advisor and his fiancé’s faces. “However, you must be exhausted and I really doubt you’d want to take part in dry matters of politics. I shall have you escorted to a chamber for you to rest. I shall be honored to have your company once you are fully replenished.”

He nodded for a squire and smiled as the woman bowed and left. Thorin was actually amused how polite and courteous the young woman was. That her heritage was strong was something clearly written in the way she spoke and moved and it was actually quite impressive compared to what Thorin had been anticipating. Still, she was rough around the edges. She moved gracefully but not enough to make her seem as if she was floating over the floor. However she seemed bright and it would not be hard for her to master etiquette impeccably so much that just a wave of her hand or a bow of her head would speak volumes without ever having to say a word.

Thorin frowned. The picture he had in his head which so eagerly plastered upon the maiden was something extremely familiar. As if, he was not imagining but actually *recollecting* an example of proper etiquette even though he didn’t understand fully about its origin.

He quickly shrugged off those thoughts and attended to the matter of business. He wasn’t looking forward to their meeting in the evening but he did look forward to the company of another once he had finished his duties for the day.

***

Asta looked about the cozy private dining room area with mild interest as she waited for her dinner partner to arrive. She had waited for Thorin to pay her a visit but instead was informed that he would be delayed and as a favor to make up for his absence he requested a private dinner to get better acquainted. Asta shook he head a little, she knew well enough it was all farce, her advisors and kin had been pressing for this marriage ever since Erebor had been reclaimed and Thorin had become King so it was no wonder they wanted them to be alone together. Although…she had to admit Thorin had certainly grown up much since she last saw him, no longer a young dwarf prince but a seasoned warrior and a King. When she had first laid eyes upon him she had practically swooned, it was a wonder she was able to stay on her feet. She had concerns on what she would see once she arrived but to say she was pleasantly surprised was an understatement.

She couldn’t help but to smile to herself, if this was the dwarf she was to marry she couldn’t have hoped for a more handsome or noble person to fill that role…this could very well be the perfect match for her. She sat down at the small table and waited with bated breath to see that magnificent King once more.

Thorin massaged his sore temples as he groggily made way where he was sure to find his betrothed. He hadn’t realized how much he had to go through and discuss when but came to these Ironhill dwarves but after the thorough discussion was over, he was utterly spent and direly hungry. He sighed and straightened his carriage before entering the room where Asta was already waiting for him.

She rose on her feet and graciously greeted him and at that, Thorin had to admit, the rowdy girl he remembered since his childhood had grown up to be so elite and proper that would break a lot of hearts.

“My Lady please forgive me for keeping you waiting,” he smiled sitting at the other end of the table. “The weight of the kingdom is sometimes too boorishly time and sanity consuming.”

“Think nothing of it…My King.” She said a slight hesitation with the formal greeting but she recovered quickly and no sooner had they sat down their dinner was served although the servants left almost as quickly as they had come. She looked at her food for a moment but she wasn’t actually hungry, she had butterflies in her stomach from this long awaited meeting so she calmly sipped her wine instead.

“I’m sure your duties take much of your time, but I do understand being a lady of the court I know how demanding your schedule can and will be, you need not ever explain yourself to me.” She said with another sweet smile. She noticed that Thorin was actually not eating his meal either, and seemed distracted although it didn’t seem to be due to something other than normal stress of running a kingdom. She had heard a few soft rumors that another Lord was visiting the mountain palace as well and she decided to inquire about this, she needed something to keep the conversation alive.

“I heard there was an elf Lord staying here in Erebor at this time, and you just finished speaking with the new King of Dale. It must be exciting to entertain such high officials; I assume they are valuable partners in the stability and prosperity of Erebor and their own respective Kingdoms.” She said, she was actually very curious about the elf Lord having never seen and elf up close before, only having heard of them, it would be a special privilege indeed if she could introduce herself but she wouldn’t ask Thorin she would speak to her own attendants about it later.

Thorin had been well trained in hospitality. Still he absentmindedly watched as they were served dinner.

He knew he was sitting stiff, that his answers were far from being adequate to whatever he was asked or expected to speak to his fiancé. He knew that she was probably aware of this as well but somehow, despite all his mental preparations of putting up a happy front, he was starting to come at that point where he could really care less. He simply hadn’t the interest or the energy. He had made a choice, *they* had made a choice and after that, if it left Thorin all cold and hollow inside, he had none to blame. He had been well trained in hospitality. And now...he could care less.

He twitched his eyes at the very mention of Thranduil. It was extremely minute, too small for an ordinary person to notice but the effect it left behind was anything but paramount to its magnitude.

He breathed in, wishing to twitch once more as his lungs began to heart with the growing throb in his chest. His jaws clenched instantly on their own, teeth grinding against each other, trying very hard to keep the lump in his throat from coming out.

As Asta looked on with expectant eyes, Thorin’s blood boiled even more.

All Thorin could think about was shout and yell at her for even breaching a subject that was far outside her limits and for the utterly callous way with which she spoke made him all the more furious.

She found it exciting! It was *exciting* to her to hear about someone who had fled and sought shelter and to whom had belonged Thorin’s heart which tore itself moment after moment with the knowledge of brushing his fingers against Thranduil’s hands but not quite *reaching* him and it was all that Thorin could handle!

Suddenly, at the sound of a concerned voice, Thorin felt the world around him starting to fall back into place. Unbeknownst to him, the frigidness on his face started to wear off as shock settled in.

He restlessly viewed his plate with brows furrowing and un-furrowing while he desperately tried to cling to an understanding which teased him with its fingers. And once he did, he breathed out like one who had been on the brink of insanity.

He was enraged at a girl who didn’t have any idea of anything that had occurred between him and Thranduil. She must’ve heard innocent news and had been eager to have some elaboration on it...and Thorin thought she was jesting at his fate?

What was happening to him?

He rose from his seat unbothered about surprised eyes following his movement. He didn’t know what he said only that his lips moved formally throwing out well practiced words aimed to excuse himself. Managing a bow, he turned and began walking away. He chose not to hear worried calls, opted to pay no head to astonished eyes which he passed. All he knew was that he had to get out of there. He had to reach to his chambers.

Stumbling into his own room, he locked his door with extreme gracelessness before forcing himself to move towards his bed with unreliable legs. He flinched as something soft and hard hit him on his knees, making him stop and bend down to feel what was his bed with his searching hand after which he dropped unceremoniously on it.

He sat there—alone and quite— staring at anything and nothing with glazed eyes. His hands probably lifted on their own accord for when they trembled and covered his face, Thorin sunk his head and breathed.

 

***

Thranduil was lying in bed quietly thinking to himself as one hand unconsciously caressed the small swell of his stomach in lazy circles. Once Thorin had left his chamber he put away his few belongings and put the room back in a tidy order, he was a little disappointed that Thorin had not come back but he didn’t go out in search of him regardless for fear of appearing too needy even if that was the case. Not to mention if Thorin happened to be in his own chamber he would be just out of reach, Thorin’s own room was reserved and guarded, not even honored guests were permitted unless directly invited so Thranduil had no choice but to wait until Thorin decided to visit him.

Their meeting left Thranduil somewhat elated and relived, each moment they had spent together made his heart swoon and at first he tried to ignore the tugging of his chest and the fierce beating of his heart whenever they were close to one another but the intense emotion that flared up inside him simply couldn’t be ignored forever and he accepted the acceptance and love Thorin showed him. Thranduil scoffed a little to himself when he realized himself that he had fallen for the dwarf, something he would never had even dreamed of before now seemed so natural, it seemed right and felt wonderful…and he wanted more, he wanted Thorin with him right at this moment and to warp him in his strong arms and envelope his senses until everything washed away and left him in a warmth like he had never known before.

***

Thorin quietly stepped in very familiar boundaries and eagerly sought out the one he truly wanted to see at that moment. It had been well into the night that he had managed to calm himself down and even though he was more stable than before, he knew he could only achieve complete peace where he found some to begin with.

His eyes lit up when they landed on a slender form stretching on his bed. Thranduil had his back facing Thorin and he was extremely relaxed and given the hour of the night, Thorin wouldn’t be surprised if the elf had fallen asleep. Still, not wanting to leave, he approached very silently and climbed up on the bed as gently as he could.

The other stirred a little owing to the shift in weight on the mattress. At that Thorin stilled and only moved again with caution when the other had again relaxed. Wordlessly, he rested his head on the pillow and against the slope of Thranduil’s neck and shoulder, pressing a kiss there as his hand gently traced the curves of Thranduil’s waist, eventually sliding to the little bump where it stayed.

Thranduil smiled at the feeling of heat on his back, he had actually fallen asleep but no sooner had he done so a slight shift in his mattress and a gentle kiss to his nape had been bestowed upon him and he couldn’t help but awaken a little to smile. He placed his hand over Thorin’s and squeezed it a little to signal he was awake to the other, as he turned a little to meet his gaze.

Thranduil relaxed a little as he looked at Thorin. “Did you come to tuck me in?” He jested as he glanced at the door realizing he hadn’t heard the door open and if that was the case how did Thorin get it? “Where did you come from?” He asked a little bewildered.

He smirked at the playful tone Thranduil used and responded back just as amusingly, “Certainly. I wouldn’t want you to be scared of some troll hiding under your bed.” He laughed when that earned a light swat on his hand but his amusement increased all the more with Thranduil’s bewilderment.

“I used the door, like normal beings tend to.” That earned him yet another swat on the hand.

“Oh fine if you must know,” Thorin resigned rolling his eyes and elaborated, “I did come through the door only I was extremely silent. I am surprised that you haven’t heard me coming, considering I must be too loud for your sensitive hearing. There is a small passage which connects the king’s room—in this case *my* room— and the women’s quarters deep inside the palace. It leads to a longer route, making it wind around your chamber with the main corridor meeting it from its side.

“This arrangement was made thousands of years ago when Erebor was first established. Back then, we had a mildly different archaeology—or so I have heard—making this very chamber to belong to the first queen. And as time passes, people’s mood changes as well. Some renovations were made and this was made one of the many guest quarters. I am not sure but I have heard it was done so after what had happened to Thráin I’s wife.”

“Really…” Thranduil said sitting up a little. “So if I wanted, so long as I was discreet I could visit you of my own accord?” Thranduil asked leaning against the stout frame of Thorin as his arms encircled his frame. Thranduil loved even the simplest of touches from him but loving being embraced by him even more. “Will you show me? Teach me how to reach you?” He asked again.

Thorin smiled warmly at him as he nodded his head but made no motion to move from their current position and Thranduil simply relaxed into the embrace enjoying to comfort he received from Thorin’s arms the calm he could only achieve within them. Thranduil allowed his mind to wander a little but then one of Thorin’s words struck him odd and he had to ask.

“Thráin I’s wife?” Thranduil frowned. “What happened?” He asked.

Thorin too shifted along with Thranduil, loving his sudden childlike amusement which he never thought of ever witnessing. It was just so innocent to which he couldn’t resist smiling. However, he hadn’t realized the topic he suddenly breached and when Thranduil asked, he decided to keep quiet on that, not wanting to elaborate any further.

However, when he was prodded by Thranduil once again, Thorin deliberated before he finally chose to finish the tale which Thranduil would perhaps come to know eventually.

“Thráin was a great ruler,” he began slowly, unsure of whether to put it directly or not. “But he was a workaholic as well. Almost to a fault.”

Once again he felt Thranduil shifting, now focusing entirely upon him with wide eyes full of curiosity. Realizing that he had no better way of explaining he went on, “As days went by, the time he spent with his counselors increased and that with his wife lessened. Feeling neglected, she started to seek comfort in other ways.”

He frowned on reflex. It was a part of history which would do well if forgotten and yet it never did. It was there it remained; lurking like a shadow behind the glamour with its secrets prodded like many scandals of royal families. But it was too late to stop.

“She started making a garden,” His hold on Thranduil tightened when the other flinched, “As days went by, she tended to the plants more and more. It came to a point when she could not be seen anywhere else for the greater part of the day. Thráin fell to his unhealthy passion as did his queen. She became obsessed and when one day someone tried to take her out into the fresh air, she saw it as a scheme to take that single thing away from her which depended on her.”

He paused with the growing thickness of the air around them. The silence was no more pleasing, it became grimmer as did their moods.

“On the way, she broke loose of the hold on her and jumped off the balcony.”

Thranduil’s own frown deepened with the depressing news, it was terrible to think that she was so dependent on something so simple and that it actually cost her, her life. Thranduil understood a little how she felt, when he himself was lonely or depressed he always found great comfort in venturing out into the forest and simply enjoying it’s comforting presence, no judgment or words just peace. After being rejected so cold heartedly by the one she loved and her only comfort was found within her garden it was only natural she would rather die than be without it. He sighed deeply and looked intently at Thorin.

“I’ve spent much of my time in that garden while I have been here, she cared very deeply for it …it’s sad that she could not take comfort in her lovers arms as she once did.” Thranduil looked away for moment. “Will that happen to us? The peaceful and wonderful moments when we hold each other, will they stop when you marry? It doesn’t seem fair to me, you, your fiancé, I don’t wish to become your lover on the side but placing her in that position isn’t right either.” Thranduil looked up to meet his gaze once more. “It sounds incredibly selfish I know but if I can’t have all of you I don’t want any of you.” He said sadly.

‘Or anyone’, Thorin felt the hidden thoughts which Thranduil chose not to articulate. Truthfully, he too had had the same concerns plaguing him ever since he had come to realize his feelings for Thranduil. In fact, he had lived through the pain not too many hours ago when he was with Asta. Each shard of realization pierced him cruelly at his heart, the agony being all the more because he knew the path they had chosen and that it couldn’t be undone now.

When his silence was too deep, Thranduil gazed up at him with more intensity than before expecting an answer. Even if he wasn’t now looking at the elf, he felt the heat of it. He wasn’t looking and all of a sudden, he couldn’t bring himself to look.

“I do not know,” he shared without any kind of white washing, chest tightening at the disappointed flicker in Thranduil’s gaze. “I am sorry. I know this is not what you want to hear. But comfort is something that I have none to offer.”

Nor something he had in him at the moment but it was something he couldn’t voice out. He wasn’t too good at expressing what he felt and Thorin knew it to be a huge disadvantage especially during times like these when not only he needed to soothe someone but also needed soothing in return.

But what he couldn’t speak in words was made clear by his gestures. He pulled Thranduil close and tightened his hold, as if Thranduil was more precious than his life and any gust of wind would be all it took to take his love away from him.

 

  


	10. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who had taken the time to comment, leave some kudos and bookmarked this fiction! We have had a great time writing it and are happy that you guys are enjoying it so far!   
> -Please check authors not at the end!

Thranduil was currently sitting in the garden enjoying the quite serenity the place offered as he tried to read the open book in his lap. It had been almost a month since he had last visited this place; the story surrounding it so upsetting Thranduil had avoided it for a little while but eventually returned…it was still beautiful and had a calming effect on Thranduil. The book Thranduil was trying to read actually rested on his stomach he was now three months along and was showing much more visibly, males carried children for a shorter time and his swollen belly just indicated he was at the halfway mark of his pregnancy and with each passing week it would become all the more evident . Although this knowledge didn’t concern Thranduil as it used to, he was worried that the dwarfs would start rumours and gossip but the ones that seemed too noticed were pleasantly curious and congratulatory about his condition which surprised him greatly. They had no concern on its parentage and were seemingly pleased he chose to hold such a personal experience in Erebor. They had no idea it was for his personal safety that he would be giving birth here but they didn’t need to know the details Thranduil was simply happy that for the moment all was right, at least with him all was right.

Thorin had seemed under a lot of pressure lately, Thranduil had discovered his fiancé, Asta, was in the mountain palace and their courtship had begun and Thorin was tearing himself up about it. Thranduil at first wanted to pretend like it didn’t bother him but he simply couldn’t hold on to the façade for very long and the mere mention of the girl’s name sent him instantly into fits of rage. She was making both Thorin and Thranduil miserable, her presence being the main reason why they had to hide their relationship and have private meetings and sneak about as if they were doing something wrong. Thranduil found himself fantasizing about he and Thorin running away and living together in peace with only each other and their child…

Thranduil stopped his musing once he realized what he had just thought, this child that was growing so quickly inside him, he had referred to it as Thorin’s, it so easily slipped into his mind it made Thranduil wonder why. It was a strange sensation whenever Thorin was near, Thranduil had just begun to feel movement from the child and he could swear it behaved almost jovial when Thorin placed his hands upon Thranduil’s swollen belly, which he had been doing more and more as of late. The child would kick like crazy when Thorin touched him and Thorin seemed to delight in the fact he was the cause of such a reaction, although Thranduil would swat his hands away in mock annoyance. Something inside Thranduil made the possibility of Thorin being the child’s father more and more plausible…and that possibility filled Thranduil with such joy he could hardly contain it.

Asta stopped at a distance and squinted her eyes to take a better look. She didn’t really believe her eyes at what she saw and when she realized that the rumours of an resident elf lord was true, she was overcame with an excitement which she hardly could retain.

She immediately walked over to him who was for the moment avoiding his back towards her and seemed like being occupied at something.

Thranduil stirred at the sound of approaching steps but somehow, he felt lethargic in actually turning to see who it was. It wasn’t Thorin, he guessed as much, for Thorin’s musky scent didn’t have any trace of flowers and honey smothered all over it. And that really left one possibility.

“Good morning My Lord. Isn’t it such a beautiful little place?”

His eyes narrowed dangerously at that trail of thought only to grow cold when he was being addressed.

Keeping a hand on his stomach and hence the book, he glanced over his shoulder with utter indifference and responded to the greeting.

“Pleasurable, yes.”

“I heard that you were here in Erebor…” She said studying the elf closely; it was breathtaking to see an elf so close for the first time. The delicate features, elegant pointed ears, tall statures, they were enchanting to her eyes and this particular elf was a King, and so very beautiful to her young eyes. With all the talk floating about the palace about him they rumours about his appearance didn’t do him justice, he was truly magnificent.

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you finally, my name is Asta.” She said in a light tone taking notice of the slight grimace in the elf’s features as if every word she spoke left a terrible taste in his mouth of which confused her greatly at the negative response from such a simple greeting but she pressed on trying to make light conversation but the elf lord seemed dethatched and uninterested in anything she had to say.

When Thranduil stood she found herself slightly awed once more at the impressive height of the elf, but her attention was soon drawn to the swollen belly he had. _‘So they were telling the truth’_ she thought. Some of her attendants were speaking about how the elf King was with child and he had chosen to have the child in Erebor, she didn’t know it was possible for male elf’s to bear children but it seemed like it was possible and she found herself unable to keep it to herself.

She honestly wasn’t trying to be rude she was simply young and much to forward in this early meeting, but due to the elf Kings reaction one would think she had attacked him. “That’s amazing, how far along are you?” She asked unconsciously reaching forward.

Thranduil fidgeted as she practically gawked at him. It was not only lacking subtlety but also a grace expected of a noble! He couldn’t believe how blatantly she _stared_ and it was just her very words which sounded so improper coming from her!

“Shocking, is it not? After the alliance between elves and dwarves, I can only fathom your surprise,” he retorted, perhaps a little too harshly than he should’ve. But still, if it kept _her_ away from him, Thranduil was gladly unbothered.

However, she didn’t go away. She came _closer_ , obviously having a thicker skin than an oliphaunt, and she pressed on with her silly questions.

And Thranduil didn’t care who she was! Did she really believe herself to be that important for Thranduil to know her?

“Oh you speak as if you were already anticipating our meeting,” he said with every bit of feigned amusement. “Forgive me if I sound awkward. I am but new to your customs. Perhaps that’s why it is beyond me why one would be actually eager to meet one she has never known or heard of before.”

That brought a light frown in her and Thranduil almost was going to smirk when it struck a chord in the woman. He stood up and was about to leave but just then, the disturbed look on her face vanished, replaced by one of awe and wonder which sickened Thranduil to the core as it fell on his swollen middle. His eyes flashed with anger at what she asked next.

“Far enough to be away from added _stress_ ,” he responded tightly, bristling with rage. The fire in his eyes emblazoned when he felt something touching his stomach and in an instant, he slapped her hand away, glaring daggers at her as an acidic scowl formed on his mouth.

That wrench. That foolish wrench! How dare she even think of touching him and _his_ child with her disgusting fingers?

“What a fine display of courtesy you have, My Lady! I wasn’t aware they were teaching less regard for personal space nowadays!” He all but screamed at her frightened form and when she tried to speak, he quickly shut her up with a venomous hiss that could curdle blood, “Or maybe it is that _you_ aren’t the one to absorb social etiquettes! How dare you even think of touching me like any other common _subject_ that may pass your way?”

Asta for a moment blanched at the mannerism of the elf King, she thought they were supposed to be graceful and wise but this type of reaction defiantly took her by surprise. She cradled her hand, although he hadn’t actually injured her it did sting quite a bit, although not nearly as much as his words did.

“You dare speak to me of courtesy and etiquette! You blatantly screaming and raving from something so innocent, how dare you treat me with such violence as if I was attacking you? You are a guest in this kingdom, I am King Thorin’s fiancé and have earned at least the barest amount of respect unbeknownst to you or not!” She yelled back unable to keep her temper in check after Thranduil slapped her away.

If she had hoped to douse Thranduil’s temper, she was sorely wrong. After the initial shock of being spoken back to like that, Thranduil’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he snarled while bristling with utter indignity, “And that is all you will ever be! King Thorin’s fiancé. Not Asta, not one with her own identity but King _Thorin’s_ fiancé!”

Seeing the flash of rage on her face, Thranduil went on, his fists now quivering in hopes of controlling himself from throttling this peasant woman, “And you believe that you are not. How marvellously oblivious of you! At least unlike you, I behave as a guest. Not as one pampered little girl who has her head swollen with dreams and fantasies!”

Noticing a gasp escaping from Asta’s face, Thranduil had felt a great amount of satisfaction than he cared to acknowledge. They chose _her_ to be Thorin’s wife? His Thorin? She was barely out of a cradle!

With arrogance, he raised his chin and looked down at her with a cold, burning gaze as he spoke venomously, “I will never understand dwarf logic when it made _you_ think that you are close to being respectable. An elfling better behaviour than you and I am not sure whether to blame your custom or your lack of grace. Nevertheless,” he added less delicately, “If you are to ever make your presence more tolerable before the Elven King of Mirkwood, you will go back and learn basic mannerisms. It might make you an acceptable queen one day.”

Thorin was leaving the council room with an irritated shake of his head as he rolled his shoulders trying to relive some of the tension he felt all over his body. For the past month he had been able to delay and all but disregard proposing marriage to Asta, they had been pressuring Thorin to take the next step with her but he simply couldn’t bring himself to do so…however he couldn’t tell them it was because his heart belonged to a certain Elf Lord. He wanted to tell the whole lot of them that he didn’t love Asta, that he was in love with someone else, that he was in love Thranduil…he was the only one Thorin wanted to marry, if he had his way he would confess his love and propose to Thranduil without another thought, he knew he loved him and that was all he needed to know.

However, there was till the account that he might not be accepted by his people, that he would not be a suitable life partner and if that was the case he would no longer be able to stay in Erebor and at this point he was too far along in his pregnancy to risk travelling to the Shire…and Thorin didn’t want Thranduil to go anywhere he wanted him near, he wanted him by his side.

As he walked down the corridors he heard raised voices and with his current level of stress he couldn’t stand it and almost disregarded it, wanting any other to handle it but he recognized Thranduil’s voice which forced him to investigate. He heard the shouts and was surprised it was Thranduil and Asta who were arguing as he quickened his step and interrupted the two before anyone else heard their squabbling.

“Such humbleness only suits you, My Lord,” Asta retorted back, glaring hard at the snooty elf who thought the whole world belonged to him even though he was but a temporary guest! “It would be a shame to witness a kingdom administered by such modesty!”

“I wish I could say the same to you. Unfortunately it is so hard to pick one quality—good or bad—that must be in you somewhere in all that mess!” Thranduil wasn’t easy to back down. Not giving Asta any time to recover, he went on to deliver the final blow. “It would be a shame to witness a kingdom administered by one with no such modesty. I really pity you. I can’t imagine fading away beside an enigma such as your king with nothing to highlight your sore presence.”

“Enough!” Both the elf and the lady stopped immediately as a heavy voice echoed throughout. Growing absolutely stiff, they remained frozen in place as the king under the mountain swept his irritated glance on each one of them before narrowing his eyes in disgust.

“It shames me to see two personalities of high esteem fighting and quarrelling like children. Not a word while I speak! He cut off Thranduil when he tried opening his mouth to speak something in defence. However, when Thorin’s glare hardened, he kept his words to himself as did Asta.

He clearly let his disappointment be known and turned without having to hear one more line. Before he did, he swept a glance once more at both of them and said, “This kind of behaviour is not tolerated under my roof.” The gaze lingered long and hard at Thranduil and not at all devoid of any meaning. “Nor is it expected.”

Then not even bothering to look back at Thranduil’s betrayed expression, he walked away.

Asta lowered her head immediately at Thorin’s words realizing just how foolish and childish she had been acting as he bowed a little to Thranduil. “Forgive me.” She said curtly as she left the garden and quickened her step to catch up to Thorin.

“My King!” She called out and thankfully Thorin stopped his pace and allowed her to catch up to him. “Forgive me for my behaviour, I’m not sure what came over me I should have never entertained such a disgraceful mannerism…please do not think less of me, I promise to never allow it to happen again.” She said with a deep bow truly ashamed and a little embarrassed.

Thorin unwillingly slowed down letting himself to be caught up by his fiancé. Truthfully, all he wanted to do then was just rest his eyes for an hour or so in his chamber. The entire day had been taxing and with all the stress and sleepless nights he had gone through, it was a wonder that he kept his bearing unbroken.

Still when the young girl apologized, he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved, even if it was by a miniscule amount.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said with a small smile, “No reaction is one sided and that you have understood is enough.”

He supposed he couldn’t blame the girl for behaving like that. He knew Thranduil had to be a catalyst for such an argument which seemed pointless to him and he mentally took a note to speak to Thranduil about it later. But for now, he needed to rest.

“Please excuse me My Lady,” he said curtly, “It has been a long day and I wish to retire to my chambers for a while.” He bowed and excused himself, subconsciously dismissing the faltering joy and relief on Asta’s face.

Once in the privacy of his own room, Thorin sat on one of the chairs and let out a groan while massaging his sore temples. His head was hurting and if the dark circles under his eyes were not enough proof of the pressure on him, his loss of appetite and focus would soon shed ample light on how his health truly was.

Not a single day went by that he felt himself being ripped into two pieces, both clashing and fighting with each other: one for duty and other for love. And with each passing day, the fight in him grew more and more numb as the void in him increased. He knew that it wouldn’t be too long before this affected his administration. He was well aware of people wondering why their king was not actively making preparations for his wedding. He was certain of Asta wondering why she was not being consulted about the wedding but how could he? Each time he tried telling himself that it was the right thing to do, that he had a responsibility towards Asta, a sharp realization struck him again and again on his wounded heart, pointing at Thranduil and the illicit affair that was wrong on so many level.

Thorin was exhausted.

He groaned when the door to his chamber opened softly. Knowing who it was, he didn’t bother opening his eyes which drooped under a stinging weight and at the hesitation with which the other approached him, Thorin prayed for a topic which didn’t relate to one that would add further pressure upon him.

Balin walked up to Thorin slowly, he could see the stress clearly on his friends face, he was obviously weary and it looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. With each day that Thorin postponed his wedding the more and more the council seemed to pressure him, which in turn only led to more strain on his already demanding lifestyle and Balin knew the weight on Thorin’s shoulders was finally having a more negative effect than usual. He had actually come to discuss why Thorin kept on postponing the wedding, or at least why he had not directly asked Asta to be his wife but upon seeing him Balin decided against it, for the first time in a long while Balin could clearly see that for whatever reason Thorin wasn’t happy…he looked closer to miserable.

He sat down across from Thorin and gave him a warm smile. “What troubles you my friend?” He asked in the hope that if Thorin was allowed to unload all his worries on his friend it might lessen the tension.

What troubled him was the mess of the entire situation! But that was something Thorin wasn’t open or ready to talk about. Not even to Balin...at least not yet. He groaned and not bothering to sit up straight, answered, “Everything. The ruling, the duties, the work load of the wedding...it’s just so much work.”

He paused and let Balin speak his thoughts but when the older dwarf did no such thing, Thorin couldn’t help but feel like getting caught under the weight of Balin’s gaze. For whatever reason, the older dwarf seemed to hold a look which spoke against him being unaware of things that went on in Erebor and especially when it came to his friend.

Deciding it would be futile to lie, Thorin sighed. “Thranduil is with child. Probably mine.” It struck him how Balin didn’t flinch or react at the news. “And even about that we are not sure. He was to leave for the Shire...I am to be married. This is insane.”

Balin swallowed thickly, he knew about Thranduil long before Thorin did and it tore him up inside seeing at how this had affected Thorin. He should have let the letter reach Thorin, it would have given him more time to deal with the upcoming marriage and possibly even delay it until he had found a solution, but with Asta already being here and obviously waiting for Thorin to make some type of movement toward the ceremony it made everything harder.

Most know of the Elvin King’s condition, and I suppose only me and you know of the possibility of it being yours…aside from Thranduil of course.” Balin said slowly. “Why did he stay? If he was to go to the Shire why didn’t he go?” Balin asked seeing an expression on his friend’s face which made him pause, he looked almost alarmed as if the prospect of Thranduil leaving would be even more terrible than him staying. “You…wanted him to stay.” Balin stated and at that statement Thorin shook his head as if trying to clear it.

Balin gave a deep sigh. “Are you in love with him?” He asked seriously looking intently at Thorin so that the other couldn’t lie to him without Balin knowing. Dwarfs were not fickle with their loves, they only loved once in their lifetime and it would explain why Thorin kept on dismissing the talks of marriage with Asta if there was another, and if that other was Thranduil Balin understood all too well why Thorin was so depressed.

Thorin almost bit his lips, the lump in his throat enlarging more as Balin stared. It was in that moment that Thorin found no other word to say. His tongue had never felt so dry like his throat, his eyes had never stung so bitterly and his chest never ached so much that he wanted to rip his heart out if only it would ease his agony. But Balin knew. He understood that which Thorin didn’t need to say.

“Yes”. Yet he answered softly, closing his own eyes just as Balin’s had grew troubled.

Balin was hoping that Thorin would say _no,_ that his small affair with Thranduil had been the result of too much wine and poor judgment, if it had been anything but love, but that wasn’t the case and it no longer could be passed off as such either. Balin wasn’t sure what to say at this point though, if Thorin was forced to marry Asta it would not only be terrible for her but it would cause massive depression in Thorin, and Balin had already been witness to a loveless marriage and the terrible repercussions of that as well. Balin could help stall the wedding but only Thorin had the power to stop it, him or Asta but the young dwarf maiden had resigned herself to this and was not going to break the engagement without good reason.

Balin walked up to Thorin and without thinking embraced him tightly, he knew how much Thorin needed support even if it was uncharacteristic of either of them to openly show such affection it wasn’t entirely uncommon. “What can I do to help you?” Balin asked, he wanted to help Thorin but he didn’t know how.

Thorin was completely unprepared at Balin’s gesture but he didn’t try anything to break away from the embrace. Instead, he rested his head against Balin’s shoulders, limp and helpless, lost without knowing anywhere to go.

“There is nothing you _can_ do,” he replied after what seemed like ages. “This was set years ago and I cannot back down from my responsibility. It would do no good neither to my clan, nor to my ancestors...nor to my people. I can’t ruin the girl’s life as well. She like Thranduil would never be spared from harsh rumours.”

He had given up, his tone bore that air. He had resigned to his fate, he was torn apart, close to extinction of his semblance, he already started feeling cold and numb within and if this went on, one day, he would have no emotions left to give. But he didn’t care now. He was exhausted.

“Let it be,” he pulled out and looked every bit weary as he felt. “Some things are never meant to happen. I am coming to accept that.”

Balin looked at Thorin for a moment. “And some rules are meant to be broken.” He said simply and decided to leave Thorin alone for the time being.

Thranduil had sat alone in his chamber after the garden incident for a long while cursing silently for allowing himself to be so easily irritated by a young girl, he was feeling threatened by her long before he had even met her and when she so brazenly reached toward him…he snapped. The thought of her touching him forced anger to swell up inside so violently that he actually lashed out at her, he did feel a little guilty for his behaviour but if he saw her again he was not so sure he would react any differently. It took him longer than he thought it would to cool down and allow the impact of Thorin’s words earlier to affect him.

Thranduil hesitated a little as he walked through the dark passage that would lead to Thorin’s room, he wasn’t sure if he should go to him or not, but he couldn’t resist the urge inside him to see him. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would say to him but thankfully once he entered the dark chamber he found Thorin sleeping soundly. The only light in the chamber was from the slowly dying embers of the fireplace and the glowing red and orange hues that danced across Thorin’s features were striking.

He knelt down on the floor next to the side of the bed where Thorn was sleeping; Thranduil gently took his lovers hand in his own laying his head down on the bed and soon following his lover into slumber.

Thorin leaned towards a source of warmth and practically nuzzled against the soft support he found so pleasurable with the little breeze ruffling his hair. Then when something traced hi forehead and ear, his sleep thinned and soon after, broke abruptly.

The first thing which Thorin noticed was his hand being held and while that registered in his sleep fuddled brain, he blinked away the weariness only to be surprised by the form of his lover next to him.

“Came to tuck me in?” He said softly unsure if Thranduil was awake and used the exact same words Thranduil so playfully used. His surprise grew when there was a light twitch in his hand bfore it was squeezed gently but with firmness. “Do you never sleep deeply?” He pressed a kiss on Thranduil’s cheeks and leaned closer. He didn’t want this to end...this moment which brought him so much joy. He wished it would last forever.

Thranduil smiled and enjoyed the sweet kisses for a moment. “Sometimes I feel like I never sleep at all.” Thranduil said a slight smile to his lips. “I’m sorry about earlier, you have enough stress going on without me behaving like and elf-ling and causing more tension…I’m a little more foolish and irritable than usual and the unexpected meeting with your fiancé certainly didn’t sit well with me, so I’m sorry for that.” He said pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Thorin’s hand.

Thranduil looked at Thorin a moment noticing the bags under his eyes and the worry that lined his forehead, it was becoming increasingly more troublesome for Thorin and Thranduil wished he could ease his pain, ease his suffering but there simply was nothing he could do at the moment except be here for him like he wanted.

“You do realize Thranduil that she will eventually stay here,” Thorin pointed out with a little concern and a little heaviness in his heart. Thranduil’s awareness was apparent when the light touches faltered for a brief moment. However, all that concerned Thranduil seemed to settle back when his eyes focused heavily on Thorin’s face, growing worried when Thorin’s fatigue was no longer hidden from him.

Sighing, Thorin stirred slightly and sat up, suddenly breaking Thranduil’s gaze and prompting Thranduil to adjust himself as well. Before the elf could address his condition, Thorin placed a gentle hand on his growing womb and said, “How much longer do you think before...you...?”

He shrugged awkwardly. For all his years of living, he had never hoped to use the same words on Thranduil—the mighty Elvin _king_ — which he had twice used for his sister.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me and XxIrisxX are thinking about writing a sequel to this fiction, a sweet fluff fiction about parenthood and marriage between Thorin and Thranduil. Let us know if this would be something you would like to read ^_^ we highly value your feedback and thoughts, so please let us know your input!


	11. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who responded to our idea for a sequel, we'll be more than happy to do so, we still have a few chapters to go before this one is over so I hope everyone enjoys what is to come next!

Thranduil couldn’t help but smile to himself as he walked back to his own chamber. No matter the circumstances Thranduil was happy that although Thorin said originally that he wouldn’t be able to acknowledge him or the child he seemed to not be able to hold true to that statement. True Thorin was unable to do it publicly but when they were alone he showered Thranduil with affection and never tried to ignore his growing belly, he seemed to even enjoy placing his hand over it. The warmth he felt whenever Thorin would touch him was incredible and he never wished to lose that heat, didn’t want to lose Thorin.

Thranduil shook away the thought of losing him as he quickly got dressed into his gold somewhat flowing robe, he could dress anyway he wished since his activities had to be somewhat limited due to his condition, it wasn’t as if they could go horseback riding. He sat down waiting impatiently for Thorin to call upon him.

To say that the King under the mountain would be fidgeting would not only be a heinous act but also one that highlighted every aspect of its impossibility. To say that the King under the Mountain was fidgeting and shifting his weight feet to feet would certainly be a heinous act and also one that highlighted every aspect of its impossibility and as it were, the guard who had passed his king not only committed such an heinous act mentally but also was quite befuddled to be highlight said impossible aspects. He didn’t know what had come over his king that made him tug on his very rich robes as if he was extremely unsure of his appearance. That was not only as unnatural as flying orcs (or elves) but quite improbable as well.

However, thinking nothing of the irritated glance thrown at his way, he bowed and left thinking that it was nothing but pre-wedding jitters.

As for Thorin, he hadn’t felt like this or a long time. He was standing like a rock—unmoved and pathetic—before he actually summoned up _courage_ to be standing before Thranduil’s door. Taking a deep breath, he almost placed a tap on it but kept himself from jumping when it opened without so much of a word revealing none other than Thranduil himself.

“Well met,” he muttered before his eyes swept up and down, taking in the elf. Thranduil never before looked so lavish. The robe he had on was a royal shade of blue, accentuating his sharp cheeks which somehow softened along with his entire feature and Thorin could almost feel the creeping blush on his cheeks.

But what made his mouth dry was the sight of Thranduil’s belly which looked so full and perfect, pulsating with life. When it was apparent that he had been staring for too long, Thorin cleared his throat and offered, “Well then, let’s go. I know for certain you haven’t been to where I am taking you.”

Thranduil smiled as heard footsteps coming closer to his chamber door as he leapt up and listened intently until he could practically feel Thorin on the other side of the thick wood and unable to wait any longer he opened the door seeing Thorin’s hand suspended in air obviously about to knock which made Thranduil smile. He noticed Thorin seemed to be sizing him up and was apparently pleased which his choice of attire. Thranduil himself was also taking in Thorin’s appearance the deep royal violet and black he wore truly did suite his appearance, almost making him more attractive than before if that was even possible.

He was taken back to reality when Thorin spoke and taking him somewhere new. Thranduil smiled following closely behind, probably a little closer than he should be, but farther than he wanted. “Do you not intend to tell me where exactly where we are going?” He asked.

“You will see,” Thorin said a confident smirk.

They walked past the inner chambers and corridors, acknowledging some glances and ignoring most. With each step they took, Thorin could feel Thranduil’s curiosity growing more and more and welled up right up to its brink when they finally stood before the palace gates.

“You mustn’t venture alone, my King,” said a startled guard vocalizing the concerns of many others who came to find the king and his guest without any form of protection.

However, Thorin simply raised his chin and looked down at the other and said with a tine leaving n room for further argument, “We are _not_ alone and I am _no_ t unarmed. Open the gates.”

The creaking of the heavy iron gates soon echoed throughout the mountain while it opened, little by little, welcoming the light of the setting sun and revealing the brilliant splash of colours.

Thorin heard a soft hitch of breath and felt a light touch on his palm. It didn’t need to be said that Thranduil would like the venue. The way his eyes widened and sparkled with an awed brightness spoke volumes and melted Thorin’s heart.

Slowly, Thorin’s fingers brushed against Thranduil’s long slender ones, testing them gently before entwining tightly. He smiled when Thranduil responded as well and followed him without a word.

“You have been away from your home for such a long time. I hope this is refreshing from the stones inside the palace walls,” he said softly stopping at a safe distance away from prying eyes.

When blue eyes met his own, Thorin saw the gratitude shining in them and he needed no words to describe what Thranduil truly felt.

Thranduil couldn’t help the slight frivolous feeling that swelled up inside him as he was lead to the large gates and upon realization that Thorin was taking him outside he couldn’t, his breath hitched as he was soon welcomed by the bright sun and beautiful landscaping just outside the mountain palace. He honestly had no words at the moment to express his gratitude but thankfully they were not needed as he was taken to a more private a secluded area and his hand was entwined with Thorin’s.

He truly did miss Mirkwood but it wasn’t safe for him to be there at this time, he could possibly return later once the child was born but not until well after that fact if at all. Although he was deeply concerned at first of his and his child’s survival once Thorin allowed him to stay it took a heavy weight off his shoulders, Thorin had become Thranduil’s savior without even knowing it.

“Thank you.” Thranduil said softly looking over the horizon and taking in the beauty of that which was Arda, the garden was lovely but nothing compared to being outside. “Now that we are here, what would you like to do?” He asked as they continued to walk hand in hand coming up upon a lake in a small seclusion of trees, it was a little cold outside but warmer than it had been. Thranduil himself would have not felt the chill but Thorin would, but upon closer inspection Thranduil realized it was a natural hot spring, steam was rising from the hot water and the warmth could be felt in the air.

Thorin immediately tried hard to suppress a smirk and a blush that threatened to embarrass him. He had a good many things on his mind that he would have liked to do. In fact, he had one which prominently stood out to be ideal in the cold chill of the upcoming winter.

Instead, he simply led Thranduil to his intended spot and let out a slow smirk.

“How about a bath?” He suggested with a sly glint in his eyes.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to turn me on?” He teased “Bringing me outside, allowing this beauty to overwhelm my senses _knowing_ how much I love it all, and this beautiful spot under the trees with hot spring with the pleasure of being alone with you…not to mention the terrible taunt of the robes you chose to wear currently, and to even further entice me with the prospect of you removing them, because in all fairness it’s working.” He said sweetly kissing Thorin’s lips gently.

Thorin’s smirked widened into the kiss. He let his tongue tease Thranduil while his hand moved up and down the elf’s chest, feeling the gentle arches with which Thranduil leaned into the touch.

“Perhaps I am and perhaps you _are_ catching up with my grand plot,” he answered with playfulness, pressing his lips over Thranduil’s once more, deeper this time with more passion while his hands massaged Thranduil’s chests, frequently sneaking past his robes and grazing against his skin.

He soon felt a pair of restless arms wandering all over his back, tugging his robes before pulling him closer with extreme urgency as Thorin felt further parting of Thranduil’s lips, letting him plunge his tongue, playing with that of his lover that demanded every bit of attention he had.

Lips moved restlessly, hands became more impatient, callously removing apparels and clothing all the while their legs instinctively drove them towards the edge of the spring. Yet they didn’t stop. Thorin felt his bodyweight shifting as Thranduil dragged him down to kneel onto the ground with a practiced carefulness. Despite the call of his burning lungs, Thorin pressed himself close to the elf, delving even deeper, relishing the soft breaths and moans coming from the other.

Thranduil absorbed all the love and attention Thorin showered him with, loving the passion filled kisses and the teasing bush of warm hands that graced his bare skin. As their kiss intensified they worked on each other’s clothing removing it with impatient and sometimes clumsy movements but that simply gave each other more time to touch and deepen their kiss all the more. Although Thranduil hated to do so he broke their kiss barely noticing his own gasp for breath as seeing that air was less important than his lovers lips, he let his fingers touch Thorin’s kiss swollen lips tracing them gently before pressing his forehead to the others.

He wanted to tell Thorin that he was in love with him, wanted to call Thorin _his_ lover but he was unsure of what reaction he would get, although they spent their time together in what could easily be called a lovers position, it had yet to be actually said. He didn’t want to ruin this moment so he brushed the thought aside and slipped out of Thorin’s grasp and into the water.

Thranduil dipped under the surface for a moment before emerging glistening as he held a hand out to Thorin. “Join me.” He said simply.

Thorin’s heart skipped beat after beat, eyes fluttering shut as Thranduil’s finger lightly brushed his lips to which he kissed gently. With Thranduil leaning in, his senses became overwhelmed with the unique sweet scent that never came off from the elf. He took in a deep breath, wanting more of that smell, more of that touch and more of Thranduil himself while his heart madly pounded against his chest.

He felt himself leaning in when Thranduil’s forehead touched his own. It was a simple gesture but more potent than anything else that rumbled his heart and mind, uprooted all of his thoughts of reality and subdued him in a transient state of composure and restlessness.

Suddenly, the touch was gone and Thorin opened his eyes, blinking with the trance that had him under. His eyes followed Thranduil’s movements as the elf—even in his current state—eased himself into the waters. Just as soon as he had entered, hranduil’s form was instantly hazed by the steam coming off from the steam, covering him in just the right places and leaving Thorin to be teased with glimpses of what was shown to him.

His breath hitched when Thranduil emerged from the surface of the spring, water glistening under the sunlight, trickling down his hair, cheeks and neck, enhancing the brightness in his eyes with which he looked at Thorin, instantly casting a spell on him.

At that, he felt an awakening heat in his chest. His legs began to feel tensed and numb with a dull throb growing between them. He needed no further invitation as he felt his body being pulled towards Thranduil as if under a trance. For a moment, he simply looked at his lover. His hand came up and placed lightly over the chid growing in Thranduil, caressing it gently as he once more closed their distances till their lips met once more.

Thorin pushed himself against the other with caution, his tongue seeking just as much attention as it was giving all the while his palm traced slow circles over Thranduil’s stomach before gradually venturing downwards, brushing against the other’s member and rubbing up and down over his soft thighs. The heat in his chest now grew to a fire, spreading slowly throughout his body and making his heart race with a sweet anticipation of the pleasure that would course through him.

He soon broke the kiss, only to have his lips and tongue dragged over the corner of Thranduil’s mouth to his chin and chest, playing with the already taut patch of skin on the other’s chest, sucking it with a dreadful slow pace while he occasionally extended his touch further inwards of Thranduil’s thighs, thrilled to find the region less flaccid and getting more and more aroused.

As for himself, he could hardly contain his lust at the feel of lips teasing the tip of his ears just as Thranduil’s hands roamed all over Thorin’s body and teasing him cruelly.

Thranduil hummed contently into the kiss as Thorin caressed his stomach, it was always a soothing motion that sent waves of pleasure through his senses and calmed him considerably. It only felt like this when Thorin touched him, others in the palace were curious and some even bold to the point where Thranduil found himself allowing them to touch his stomach and the dwarfs were elated by the pregnancy the happiness in their eyes uplifting but it didn’t feel the same as when Thorin touched him. Thranduil felt a pulling sensation in his heart, the mere touch making him feel closer to Thorin than anything in the world, he felt connected to him.

Thranduil was a little taken aback when Thorin’s hand ventured further down and grasped him between his legs making his gasp which allowed Thorin to deepen their kiss. Thranduil’s mind was washed of any sweet nothings and replaced by a bout of lust as he pulled Thorin as close as possible wanting their bodies to touch as much as possible. He kissed Thorin’s ears and reached for his lovers own hardening member as he closed his eyes and began to stroke him quickly, the water around them sloshed a little from their movements each getting much wanted enjoyment from the other.

Thorin stiffened when the strokes grew faster and just as he started to feel his neck arching along with his back, Thranduil slowed his pace, making Thorin throw out an impatient groan as layers of pleasure took over his array of emotions.

As for Thranduil, Thorin’s mouth taunted every inch of his flesh, suckling and tasting his sweetness and each time Thorin’s teeth pressed a little against Thranduil’s skin, the elf graciously allowed his pleasured whimpers to escape his moist lips which shone brilliantly with the water under the sun.

Thranduil’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes were glazed and half lidded under the weight of ecstasy and lust and that very sight stirred so many feelings in Thorin that his mind became numb under the sheer amount of overwhelming emotions he felt, spiking his heartbeat to an erratic pace when he felt that very familiar strong pull at the moment, the same he always felt whenever he was with Thranduil.

His own breathing was hot and heaved, struggling to find a peaceful pace as lust drove him wild. His legs tightened even further, trembling as his arousal became all the more hot and throbbing under the urgent strokes, making his entire body to shudder in return when jolts of pleasure coursed through his spine.

His own strokes grew wilder, faster and all the more frantic as a powerful want of release plummeted his chest. He inhaled sharply when Thranduil’s hungry lips crashed against his once more just as the elf’s own body started becoming tense.

Thorin’s frame also started to stiffen under the influence of a massive force that rapidly began to overcast his already muddled senses. The sweet agony between his legs grew more and more throbbing, desperate to gain some relief as ecstasy engulfed him like wild flames, leaving nothing but the ashes of hesitation in their awake.

Suddenly, Thorin felt his head toss with a jolt of electricity running down his legs. An understanding quickly flared up in his mind before waves of erotic sensations would wash it away.

He realized now that he was no longer hesitant. He felt no guilt, he had no reservations and any concerns of rude whispers and brutal secrets that previously tore him apart while he had been with Thranduil were somehow no longer a priority in him. He simply didn’t care. While he was with Thranduil, he had felt such relief and excitement which he knew he would feel with no other.

He wanted Thranduil. He needed Thranduil and if that would make him burn in flames, then so be it. Let him burn.

His thoughts started to mingle with incoherency, his senses beginning to be veiled, the overcastting sensations now completely washed away any other form of feelings Thorin had until that point.

The sound of moans mingled with that of rippling water. Breaths fell heavily. Strokes grew even more frantic just as the control in Thorin’s body started giving away. Soon, he felt something strong sweeping him up from his feet, making him tremble as a jolting sensation overtook him. His mind erupted with a myriad of feelings, his heart pounded with every intent of breaking free of his cage, his senses all but wiped away under a sheer and ancient force as he threatened to come again and again in his lover’s hands.

Thranduil relished in the sounds that poured form Thorin’s lips as he continued his ministrations, all the while watching Thorin grip the bank tightly while another fisted into his hair. Regardless of the fact that Thranduil was the one servicing Thorin it still gave Thranduil great pleasure knowing he was the one that caused such a wondrous feeling deep within his lover, he was the one making him see the stars when the sun was burning brightly in the sky and that gave him more satisfaction than anything. He stopped stroking him only to cover Thorin’s arousal with his mouth his movements were quick, in the same rhythm of his beating heart as he felt Thorin’s body go a little ridged which forced him to pull away. He grabbed the base of Thorin’s arousal a little roughly which made the dwarf glare at him, his smoldering eyes promising danger if he didn’t continue.

“Don’t be angry my sweet…I’m simply not finished with you yet.” Thranduil said kissing the tip of Thorin’s shaft but still holding on firmly to the base. Thranduil could do as much as he pleased and yet Thorin could not reach him completion regardless, and Thranduil took that as incentive swallowing his lover entirely, taking him well into his throat and forcing a scream to break free of Thorin’s mouth.

Thorin groaned as frustration took him over with the weeping need for release. He tossed his head back and roughly shoved himself against the bank, his hands flailing to hold any form of grip just so he could steady himself from the hard blow which shook him when Thranduil’s warm mouth teased him. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Thranduil pulled apart only to have his breath hitched again when he was jerked rather hard, making him glare at the other with extreme annoyance.

“Oh you—no more games!” He barely managed to say through clenched teeth before seeing stars once more. Then Thranduil took him in, slowly, bit by bit of him in his mouth. Thorin breathed fast with a throb in his head and groin, shooting pleasure throughout his entire body.

With each of Thranduil’s suction, Thorin felt a sharp and sweet agony thrilling him to his bones and the act was so powerful that he couldn’t help himself bending in sharp angles all the while his finger clenched whatever they could find on the bank.

The sensations were so strong and electrifying shaking him to the core. Thranduil’s skilful mouth worked its magic on Thorin, building up his ecstatic pain, building up his dire need of relief that nearly brought tears to his eyes. He had never felt so wonderful before: so helpless and out of control.

His breath caught in his throat with one strong suction. His hands almost came up to clutch his head, stopping midair, balling into fists as a shudder took him over before falling beside him in the water with a loud splash. His eyes few open when he was fully engulfed and Thorin could no longer hold a scream in his throat as utter elation swept him up and crashed him down hard.

“Please, no more games!” He was exhaling hard, chest rising and falling as he struggled to keep himself planted onto reality. “You’re cruel—Mahal be damned, you are _cruel_!”

Was this how Thranduil felt when Thorin had taunted him? Was this what desperation felt like? Vulnerable, knee-weakening and completely out of control? He vaguely wondered if Thranduil was avenging for all the times Thorin had been cruel to him in their private games and when it was _his_ turn to be played, Thorin wasn’t sure what he needed to do while his heart and mind were tormented with powerful feelings all the while threatening to wipe him from the present moment.

“Will you quit with it? Please!”

He opened his eyes, pleads shining from them, begging for mercy and when they fell on Thranduil’s cheeky ones, Thorin rolled his head to the side and groaned, knowing well that he was not to be relieved so easily.

He had long released Thranduil’s own shaft, the plummeting sensations now too unbearable for him to keep him in charge. And since he was in Thranduil’s hands, Thorin bit his lips, stifling a whimper and started rocking his hips. One of his hands rested at the back of the elf’s head while he began thrusting into the other with marginal steadiness which lessened as moments fleeted.

Thranduil would have loved to torment his lover further but even he had his own limitations as he waited with bated breath for Thorin to claim him once more and thankfully he was not disappointed. The large warm hands caressing his sides roughly as he was brought just a little closer, able to feel the tip of Thorin’s erection against his entrance a soft mewl escaping his lips at the sensation until he broke through. Thranduil couldn’t help but cry out a little from the initial intrusion although it wasn’t that it was painful, on the contrary, it felt fantastic and he simply couldn’t contain his own pleasure.

Thranduil wasn’t given too much time to adjust although he hardly needed it, the slow rock of Thorin’s hips and shallow thrusts had given him enough time to welcome him fully as he began to push back moving in the same rhythm as his lover. Their tempo grew as well as their own mingling passions their own heavy breath and sounds of pleasure pouring from their lips as their own releases mounted, Thranduil had wanted to hold off to make this moment last longer but when Thorin’s hand reached under him and took hold of arousal pumping him heatedly it was all too much, and Thranduil tumbled over the edge screaming Thorin’s name in his release. And not a moment later, Thorin followed him into the blinding release Thranduil’s name escaping his lips.

Thorin saw nothing but stars while his spasms died down to mere shudders and he fell limply, resting against the water bank, letting the warm waters caressing his flushed and sensitive skin. His heartbeat regulated to a normal pace and soon, the veil over his senses began lifting while he gained control over himself once more.

He rested his cheek against Thranduil’s head while the elf—still in his orgasmic bliss—gently caressed Thorin’s chest. It felt so right and natural, that was just how they should’ve been and if not for his binding duties, Thorin would have it this way.

However, Thorin didn’t feel too strongly about his marriage. Not that he had any excitement to begin with but still, now he felt a long retrained urge coming forward, crawling out of the depths of his heart. He gently kissed Thranduil and brushed the child growing in his lover and while he felt the tight bump warm with life, Thorin’s tongue rolled out words which were long resting on its tip, “I do not want to wed her. I want _you_ in my life.”

He placed his palm on Thranduil’s womb gently but with a possessive firmness. “ _Both_ of you,” he added.

Thranduil was still in a haze but he had heard Thorin’s words clearly, the fact Thorin had said that he wanted him and his child to be part of his life elated and delighted Thranduil as it was Thranduil’s wish as well, and they both also knew that he did not wish to marry Asta. In all fairness it wasn’t the young maidens fault and it wasn’t their fault either, one could not pick and choose who they fell in love with. Even if Thranduil’s wasn’t with child all it would take is one chance meeting and these feelings he held for Thorin would make themselves known…it was unavoidable in the end.

Thranduil leaned forward and kissed Thorin’s lips gently. “I love you.” He said softly his hand over Thorin’s heart loving the feel of the slow steady heart beat seem to skip a beat. “I’ll be here with you no matter what happens, even if this is the only way we can be together…the thought of being anywhere else is unbearable.”

Thorin hummed, somewhat soothed by Thranduil’s words and drew the elf closer to him. “I love you too.”

Their bliss was soon interrupted by the sound of soft rustling of leaves. The wind had not yet picked up strongly and the breeze which began to blow could hardly shift the dried forest leaves, let alone ruffle them. At that, Thorin and Thranduil both stirred out of their trance and just as soon as they did, a gripping fear took hold over their hearts. They both remained frozen in place, numb and afraid of being discovered so openly. After what felt like ages, both of them hastened and put on their clothes, carefully making their way towards the palace.

 

 ***

 

Asta’s legs felt so weak and limp ash she struggled on her feet. Her mind spun, horrified at what she saw and heard. She took no notice of the concerned eyes following her form as she took clumsy steps, stumbling against pillars, holding them for dear life, using them as support while her knees refused to bear her weight any longer.

Her mind raced over and over at the scene she had stumbled upon, each echoing word seemingly pushing a dagger through her chest with utmost cruelty.

She still couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe stumbling upon her king and his _guest_ naked and intimate. She had only gone out for a walk, she had only been curious to hear splashing from a nearby spring and when she saw them, she couldn’t breathe.

Her feet wobbled as she collided against a pillar. Her heart hammered with grief against her chest, _their_ honest words fresh in her mind.

The elf lord held his heart. The elf lord was with child, most likely _Thorin’s_ child and they were in love! She had come between them, she had been lied to, she had been _deceived_.

Her vision grew hazy, hot tears freely flowing down her cheeks. Her knees felt extremely weak, her body refused to be supported, her legs wobbled and somehow in a trance carried her callously to a place that had no one for the moment. Asta didn’t know or didn’t even care as long as there were no people. She didn’t want to be seen. She didn’t want to remain in Erebor any longer, she wanted the truth!

Finally, her legs gave out and she crumpled on to the floor. Her hands clutched her head, heavy with shame and muddled anger. Her frame began trembling under the crushing weight she suddenly found upon her. And if her cries echoed throughout the walls, her mind didn’t register. It didn’t care.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little shorter than the others and i apologize for the long wait for the update. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and always responded to! Thanks so much!


	12. A Hearts Desire - Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go! Thanks to everyone who have commented, given kudos, and bookmarked this fiction thanks so much!  
> Also I am moving within the next few days and it might take a week or two to have internet installed at my new place so I won't be able to update at the usual time, I apologize for this in advance ^_^ I'll talk with my co-author and see if she'll update for me but otherwise don't be worried about the delay I'll post the last chapter as soon as possible!

Thranduil was walking down the mostly empty corridors of the mountain palace, he was a little disappointed that he had to return to the mountain, if able he would venture outside everyday but Thorin had expressed a great concern of him wandering off alone not to mention a few dwarfs also disapproved given his condition. So to put others minds at ease he agreed to stay inside, besides the fact that he would much rather spend some more alone time with Thorin. Aside from their little retreat away from the palace the only other time he was able to be alone with him was when he was able to sneak into his room or vice-versa and while Thranduil tried to convince himself that was enough he was only fooling himself in all reality.

Even if he was able to be with Thorin every waking moment he knew in his heart that it would never be enough, his heart and mind were completely overwhelmed by Thorin so hopeless and helplessly in love with the dwarf that he was completely willing to be his lover even if that placed him on the sidelines, being an unspoken lover of the King. Thranduil chided himself at his own foolishness, the person he was before would have never allowed this to get so out of control, nor would he accept being a silent partner. However Thranduil wasn’t the same elf he was before all this started, he placed a hand over his stomach and closed his eyes, this child had changed him and the love he felt for Thorin had changed him as well. Thranduil knew it was wrong to want so much from Thorin but he couldn’t help how he felt; Thorin said he wanted both him and the child in his life…he had said he loved him, how could Thranduil possibly ignore that and pretend that it didn’t affect him? The words consumed him absolutely.

Thranduil was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t been paying attention to where he had been going and ended up is a very secluded part of the palace, and quite possibly a little lost, the labyrinth that was Erebor was not to be taken lightly, and he should have been paying more attention. He had started to turn around when he spotted Asta; she was sitting on a nearby windowsill looking outside over the expanse of land, almost as if she was looking at her homeland, it was possible she was homesick and Thranduil could relate to her melancholy. As he looked at her he thought he should speak to her, at least apologize for his earlier behavior if nothing else although the apology was terribly late surely she would accept it wouldn’t she? A part of Thranduil knew he had to make some sort of peace with Asta or at least where they tolerated one another for Thorin’s sake. Thranduil didn’t want to be pulling Thorin in two directions constantly otherwise it would surely break the mountain king eventually…but maybe if he and Asta were not hostile it would ease the tension a little.

“Lady Asta.” He addressed her formally and was about to continue with his apology but when her eyes met his it struck him silent. She looked more miserable than he anticipated much more than a simple homesickness and at the narrowing of her eyes toward him he was re-thinking making peace with this girl, she seemed angry with him and at the moment he wasn’t sure why.

Asta had lost her spark over the days. She had lost any interest of at least feigning joy whenever she spotted Thorin especially now that she knew that she had never been the one to give him joy in the first place. She kept mostly to herself and barring the minimal public appearances, she relieved the king under the mountain of further stress who seemed to be guilty whenever he had been around her. Days had passed. Once she had such dreams of Erebor. Now she could hardly tolerate it. She wanted to go home. She missed her family.

Her thoughts were broken by a voice she least wanted to hear at the moment. Yet she turned, staring blankly at the person before the fire of remembrance shone angrily in her eyes. He didn’t return the courtesy. She had forgotten about it and even if she didn’t, she had no respect for those who lied. The elf looked thoroughly confused and it was his cluelessness which insulted her even more. When apparently Thranduil had nothing to say, she began turning her face away.

She was forced to face him when Thranduil murmured out words of apology.

“Forgiveness?” She said, bitterness instantly seeping from her voice, “You have nothing to apologize for My Lord and clearly you don’t mean to. So why do you strain to put up a pretence?”

Thranduil was a little taken aback by her angry tone toward him. “Pretense.” He repeated mainly to himself before he locked his eyes with hers at a glance. “I did not come here to ask for you forgiveness, I am only offering you my apology which you will either except or reject, your forgiveness is not required.” He bit back, he honestly wanted to be civil with her but her attitude of the situation irritated him, he was not about to be humbled by a little girl who had equal fault for their little spat a month ago.

He let go of a heavy sigh. “You needn’t be so hostile toward me…there is no need for that.” He offered willing to try and make amends with her, he felt he owed Thorin that much at least.

Instead of retorting back, Asta was silent and stunned. She still felt angry at the elf but truly, she wasn’t sure who deserved her anger: Thranduil or the king who surely knew everything and yet stringed her along. Her eyes welled up once more at the very thought of the deceit. It wasn’t just her who was humiliated. It was her whole house. Did Thorin not realize that?

Thranduil seemed to change his tone after he deemed her pained expression. He even addressed her in a way as if she was a child who threw one of many unnecessary fits and Asta didn’t really know whether she even held a place to accept or reject Thranduil’s apology. To him, she was the one who stood in-between his love.

“Then tell me what I should do,” she finally whispered, trying hard to hold back her tears. “Tell me my hostility isn’t justified. Months before my wedding, I find everything to be a lie. All these years I have been led to believe that Thorin would take me as his wife and love as his one. Now I find him to take me as his wife but only for some twisted show and that too out of compulsion, not out of his own free will.” She stared hard at Thranduil whose face seemed to be growing more and more solemn with every word that left her mouth. Her tears flowed unrestrained without her knowing and yet she went on, relentless of her thoughts to be made known. At Thranduil’s futile attempt of an excuse, she cut him off mid way and almost cried out, “He sneaks off with *you*! He loves *you* and has a child with you! How do you want me to react, Elvenking?”

It was Thranduil’s turn to be stunned.

“Why were you not honest with me? Why did you play with *my* honor? Do you know the shame my family will have to bear? Why could any you have not told me? I stand between you two! I made you miserable and I was the cause! How do you think that feels?”

Thranduil for a while was so completely astonished, he couldn’t even speak, she knew…she knew about himself and Thorin; she knew they were in love and that she was the only thing that stood in their way of being together. Also this child, the one he carried, the possibility of Bard being the father was no longer a concern, the constant pull and tug upon his heart when Thorin was near and the warmth he felt when Thorin would touch him…this child reacted to its father’s presence and Thranduil had no doubt now of its parentage. His hands instantly went to his stomach an unconscious protectiveness of the child overcoming him.

“I didn’t do any of this to intentionally hurt or dishonor you…” Thranduil offered swallowing thickly. “I was intent on leaving at first, to allow him to forget all about me but when he asked me to stay I couldn’t decline…and I most certainly had no intention of falling in love with him, just being close to him was enough for me.” Thranduil could see that Asta was calming down a little so he continued.

“Thorin didn’t know what to do; he didn’t plan for any of this either and this child was a surprise to us both, he told me that he couldn’t acknowledge the child or me and I accepted that…he said that for you Asta, he was trying to retain your honor not destroy it. The weight of his crown is a terrible burden and the duty he is bound toward, if he could change things he would, he would release you if that was your wish but as King he cannot do such a thin.” Thranduil paused. “I am truly sorry you did not learn the truth by confession, you are right that either me or Thorin should have told you…what will you do now?” He asked.

“You had to have known this for a least a few days and yet you haven’t acted upon it…why? You could easily have me banished from Erebor; even Thorin would not be able to stop you, you could have called out Thorin as well but you haven’t.” He looked intently at Asta. “I honestly do love him, but I won’t be the cause of his destruction…what would you have me do to make this right, if you have any compassion you will not destroy Thorin either.”

Asta softened considerably when Thranduil stared at her with purpose. She knew he was right. She had enough time to act, to have him driven out of Erebor and yet she didn’t. She wasn’t sure who the real outsider was. She took many deep breaths, realizing that in that matter she had but one thing to do.

“And then what?” She asked as understanding surfaced from the depths of her heart. She was not oblivious to the strain Thorin was under; she had *seen* the bags under his eyes and even though she had refused to believe at first that she was the cause of it, now she could ignore it no longer. She didn’t want to cause anybody any trouble. Especially not one who was so heavily pregnant and held someone’s heart she could never truly hope to attain.

Her hands rubbed against each other, massaging the ring she wore. Finally with one deep breath, she removed it and handed it to Thranduil.

Thranduil’s shock was visible in his eyes. Clearly he had not anticipated the action and truthfully, neither did Asta...at least not until two days ago when she began having thoughts of it. When silent queries poured from Thranduil’s face, Asta offered a weak smile. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

With that, she bowed. She would return home. She realized there would be rumors and many questions. But she didn’t regret the choice she made.

“Asta!” Thranduil called after her making her stop for a moment. “Thank you, if within my power I will do everything to make Thorin happy…and I will pray for you happiness as well.” He said.

***

Balin was running as fast as he could down the corridors to Thorin’s chamber. He had been informed recently that Asta had left earlier that morning intent on going back home to the Blue Mountains, thus breaking the engagement with Thorin. Balin himself was completely taken by surprise of this turn of events not expecting such a sudden and abrupt dismissal, but at the moment he had to inform his king of this news before he learned it by someone else. He walked into Thorin’s study without so much of a knock and bowed deeply knowing Thorin was busy but his own matter took precedence.

“Forgive the intrusion my king but I bring distressing news.” He said rising from his bow. “The Lady Asta has left Erebor, your engagement has thus been annulled majesty…she gave no notice of this departure simply informed a page that she could not marry you and left, I was just informed a few moments ago.” Balin said.

The loud bang with which his door opened startled Thorin greatly. He uncharacteristically looked up with wide eyes and when he saw the haggard state of his friend, Thorin couldn’t help but twist his face with a thousand enquiries.

However, Balin needed no verbal cue.

Thorin rose sharply from his seat, pushing the chair so hard that it clattered on the floor. He couldn’t believe his ears what he had been told and even though for a brief moment he felt relieved, the feeling was short-lived as a cold chill took its place the moment after.

He tried to feel his eyes widening with shock but instead, they averted away from Balin’s gaze while his cheeks began to burn with shame and guilt. Shame as he knew why she had acted thusly, guilt because of the way he had treated her...but more so, because of how Erebor would be roused in scandal. However, instead of stinging by it, he felt...nothing. In fact found himself thinking of Thranduil. And the onset of relief was clearly felt in his heart.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he vaguely saw Balin’s face twisting from shock to confusion before heaviness of understanding settled. At that, Thorin simply frowned and stood waiting for Bain to speak. When he didn’t Thorin decided he should come clean, “She saw me with Thranduil. I couldn’t further deny my heart and I am not sorry.”

Balin felt himself stiffen from the confession, he had suspected all along that with Thranduil’s arrival that this would happen. After all dwarfs mate for life and if Thorin had indeed lain with Thranduil no matter the circumstances his choice had already been made and no arranged marriage was going to change that for him. Balin could clearly see a type of relief and heaviness be lifted off Thorin almost instantly now that the marriage had been cancelled and since it was not of his own accord it would save Thorin from much embarrassment. Erebor would need time to recover from the scandal but since things were handled peacefully it wouldn’t damage the kingdom too much although there was still the Elvin King to consider.

“You really do love him don’t you?” Balin asked although it was more of a statement and less of a question. “Do you really believe the child he carried is yours? I know it was wrong but he had sent you a letter prior to him coming to Erebor about this pregnancy and I am terribly sorry for keeping it from you but I was just trying to protect you, I know it was wrong and I deeply regret my actions.” Balin said bowing deeply.

This time, Thorin did feel a shock. Balin *knew*? He knew and yet he had kept Thorin in the dark? He honestly didn’t even know how to react. That meant that Thranduil coming here accusing him of not wanting to do anything with him was all very much justified and on top of that, Balin actually *knew* and could have saved everyone a lot of trouble!

However, the beginnings of anger which rolled within him washed away just as quickly as Balin’s pensive tone reached his ears. Balin couldn’t be blamed. Thorin was engaged and if anything, he couldn’t hold Balin accounted for his reckless action so many nights ago. He calmed and waved a hand in forgiveness.

“I understand your actions and trust you t have good intentions for whatever you do.” He replied, much to Balin’s relief. “Truly, I don’t even care about the child’s parentage. I want a family with Thranduil. I want peace. That’s it.”

He frowned for a moment and added as an afterthought, “Can elves wed twice?”

“Well…” Balin began a little nervous of the sudden question but answered nonetheless. “In most cases elves mate for life and Thranduil has been married once already as you know however...” Balin said seeing a type of sorrow flutter across Thorin’s features. “Thranduil’s wife did not sail to the Valior, she unfortunately died and if he was not free to accept advances I do not believe he would have lain with you…you said you have been with him since he came to Erebor, does he love you in return?” Balin said being well versed in Elvin culture.

Balin smiled at Thorin knowingly. “Go to him, if you wish it you can have the family you want and it can be with him. Dwarfs are very forgiving with matters of the heart Thorin, with a young child in the near future Erebor would sooner rejoice then condemn you for your actions, the Lady Asta has saved you from any responsibility you previously had…you can only be true to your heart after all.” Balin said.

Thorin managed a nod before dashing off towards a certain chamber. He had news to share.

***

Thorin didn’t really care about the glances and the looks he received. He didn’t seem to cross the corridors, he felt like gliding across it with an unbelievable speed he didn’t know he had in him. His heart fluttered and felt so light that it was almost an uncanny sensation. He barged in through the door and his smile widened to a grin as he saw Thranduil startled because of his action, staring wide eyed and demanding to know Thorin’s business there.

The dwarf king decided to ignore any questions and took confident strides towards the other. Thranduil’s brow quirked and he set something down beside him on the bed where he was sitting. Before he even understood what was happening, Thorin practically swept him up in his arms and swooped him down, planting a sudden and long kiss with his excitement shining through.

He felt relieved. He felt extremely light ad unburdened now that a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He stroke Thranduil’s belly and kissed him again just as the astonished elf was beginning to form his query. After his miserably gloom state, Thorin certainly couldn’t blame his love to be surprised seeing him so uncharacteristically energetic.

Finally Thorin released them. He took Thranduil’s palm in his own and squeezed it tight all the while he tried to calm down his excitement. When he felt composed enough Thorin asked with all the certainty of the answer he knew to receive, “Will you have a family with me?"

Thranduil was startled when Thorin had burst through his chamber door without so much as a knock but the energy he displayed in a whirl of kisses and touch left Thranduil at a bit of a loss, more than a little confused on the sudden and quick display of affection. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it he would never allow it otherwise but nevertheless it was rather uncharacteristic of him. Thranduil was about to tell Thorin about his encounter with Asta, but his words became caught in his throat at Thorin’s words.

_‘Did I hear him right?’_ Thranduil thought as he regarded Thorin carefully for a moment. Why was he asking such a thing now? While a million things went flying through Thranduil’s mind one thing was for certain. “Of course.” He said simply, it was all he really knew for sure of, he wanted to be with Thorin more than anything.

The look of confusion behind joy didn’t miss Thorin’s eyes. He knew how abrupt he sounded and how Thranduil had many questions—good questions—to ask him about his sudden change of mind. But when Thranduil consented gladly, Thorin felt unnaturally happy. He didn’t care whether the child was Bard’s or his own. He didn’t care if there would be harsh rumors and sharp criticisms flying about in Erebor. All he knew was that he loved Thranduil, Thranduil loved him, his friend supported them and he wanted nothing more than to raise the child *with* the one he loved.

Where once Thorin said he couldn’t give the child his name, that he couldn’t acknowledge Thranduil publicly as his love, his sudden bout of euphoria was something to be accounted for.

“Asta broke off our engagement,” he offered and became taken aback himself when Thranduil confirmed his prior knowledge of this with a resound nod. However, disregarding the concern of how Thranduil came to know himself, Thorin went on and spoke what he had in his heart for a very long time, “I know it seems wrong. Though honestly, I am not going to deny how relieved I am. I do not care how people will react. I do not even bother about the child’s parentage. That it has your blood is enough for me. It always was.” He paused, caressing the side of Thranduil’s face, “I couldn’t acknowledge both of you for I feared about you both and about my honor a little as well. But it didn’t take me long to realize how insignificant they are. I was urged to follow my heart. Belated but still, I have decided to do so.”

All the while he spoke, Thorin softened as an array of emotions colored Thranduil’s face. With every word escaping from Thorin’s lips, the brightness in Thranduil’s eyes seemed to increase as did the inherent glow which Thorin deemed to be always present in the elf. His lips stretched modestly to a joyous smile, his cheeks colored and that Thranduil was happy showed in every inch of his being as he leaned in when Thorin cupped his cheeks.

“I was a fool for not realizing this sooner. I do now.”

Thranduil smiled and leaned closer to him, he embraced Thorin tightly, the flood of emotions he felt overwhelmed his senses and tears breached his eyes, he wasn’t sad he was happier than he ever thought possible, there simple act of acknowledging both Thranduil and the child was more than enough but when he proclaimed that he wanted to raise his child with him and didn’t care what anyone thought, Thranduil for the first time in a long time didn’t feel so alone anymore. Regardless of the fact Thorin telling him he loved him before now he was deeply concerned that once the child was born he would be all alone again forced to live in seclusion to keep his child safe…but here in this mountain palace he now belonged both himself and his child, their child.

“Thank you…” He kissed Thorin gently before taking the ring Asta gave him and placing it in Thorin’s palm, “Asta gave that to me just before she left, apparently she witnessed how much we loved one another and although I’m sure she hated us for it she also knew that see couldn’t break us apart either. It was actually kind of her to release you…I promised her I would make you happy and I will.” Thranduil said gently brushing the back of his hand across Thorin’s cheek.

“Where do we go from here?” Thranduil asked.

Thorin no longer looked amazed when he realized how Thranduil came to know about his and Asta’s engagement being broken. When Thranduil asked the next question, Thorin couldn’t help but let out a smirk that spoke a thousand words.

“Stating a valid for Bard to stop his efforts and you to talk with your son.” He added at Thranduil’s anticipatory look, “And then, marriage.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi, XxIrisxX here. A huge apology to all of you guys fo taking so long to update! But here it is, the epilogue and I am sure I speak for Nerwen as well when I say this- we both appreciated the support and reviews, you guys really are awesome and it makes us that much motivated to write more and write better! Thank you!

Legolas sat in his father’s study over going correspondents and various matters of the Kingdom, he had never really appreciated the sacrifice and workload his father dealt with on a daily basis until he was forced to take on all the responsibility. He was worried about his father and while he was able to avoid answering the councils various questions for a little while he eventually had to tell them the truth about the Kings disappearance. He explained the pregnancy and his father going to meet with the father however didn’t divulge the information about not knowing exactly _who_ the father was and thankfully the rumors and whispered had died down quite a bit and things were returning to normal and many were questioning as to when and if the King was ever to return…Legolas was unsure.

He glanced at his desk and saw a peculiar looking letter and picked it up feeling a wash of relief wash over him when he opened it and realized it was his father and as he read on he felt more and more elated, Thorin had accepted his father and the child, he even had asked for his hand in marriage and this information alone was enough to put everyone’s mind at ease, with this bonding there was no scandal and his father could come home without fear of prosecution. Thranduil stated he couldn’t travel so close to the delivery date but he would try and make arrangements at a later date and would keep in close contact. Legolas smiled to himself and leaned back a little into his chair thinking for a moment.

 He picked up a pen and parchment and wrote back, it was a simple response in regards to his father’s upcoming wedding and he wished them both the best.

* * *

 

“Da, there’s a strange looking letter for you.” Tilda’s voice roused Bard from his administrative work. He smiled when Tilda rushed towards him and with such an amusement in her face that humoured her father greatly.

“Thank you Love,” he said taking the letter carefully from her hands. When his eyes fell on the lavish seal and emblem, Bard’s fingers trembled and a sudden gush of air flowed through his chest. He didn’t understand whether his heart skipped a beat or stopped for a moment but once he made out the emblem, a sense of awe washed over him and brought with it a tinge of jealousy and a weariness of his past trials. He felt the curious glance of his daughter but he didn’t hae the right mind to entertain her amusement.

With a sudden haste, he began opening the letter, sweeping his eyes across every line but not missing a single word. When he had finished reading, he simply set the letter down and looked blankly on the desk.

He had known to see the day the moment he had laid his eyes on Thranduil and saw the longing in him and the ache and fire in Thorin. That day, he had felt a sense of loss. And when news came of his aid no longer being required, Bard had to hide whatever and stinging ache he felt within him after which, he had fully come to realize that what he thought he could prevent would occur nonetheless. That day, he had let the thread connecting him to Thranduil slip even further from his fingers.

He returned, building his life, family and kingdom. He began feeling happy for Thranduil and the child. Thorin had sheltered them willingly. That was a great news to Bard’s ears. But he also felt jealousy for the dwarf king. He knew then what Thorin didn’t.

Thranduil was in love. And it wasn’t Bard.

Now when the news of Thranduil’s wedding reached his ears, Bard felt the last end of the thread that he held on wearily slip from his fingers completely.

With a sigh, he picked up his pen.

He was glad and he would be courteous wish them both a bright future.

* * *

 

The following months flew by in a blur of excitement and minimal tribulation as both Thorin and Thranduil prepared for the upcoming wedding and child that would soon join them. Thranduil smiled every time Thorin would become overly cautious and a bit overprotective of Thranduil and his current state, with each month it became a little worse and Thranduil was more than thankful that the birth was so close otherwise he would be tempted to smother Thorin with a pillow the way he was smothering him. Thranduil was pregnant; not an infidel, but he knew it was just the prospect of being a future father and husband that made Thorin behave the way he did.

They had both decided to postpone the wedding until after the birth, they were devoted to one another and all involved knew that a wedding was simply a formality and not required just expected. It took a little wile for all those in Erebor to accept the sudden change but Balin had been right about the dwarfs understanding the ways of the heart and the upcoming child only smoothed things over more.

“And how will you get up if you are kneeling like that?” Thorin scoffed the moment he entered just as he saw the back of his lover facing him and the eccentric elf—perhaps out of his many moods—apparently trying to see if he was ‘round but certainly not a mound’ as dubbed by Thranduil himself on several occasions.

Thorin had expected a clever quip. However, when a grunt took its place, the dwarf king instantly felt his eyebrows knitting together as he strode towards the other with extreme urgency.

“Thranduil,” he called out, holding his lover’s shoulder. He was shocked when at the touch he found out just how much tense his lover was, as if in deep restraint or...

Thorin swallowed thickly.

Or trying to control an emerging pain.

“Thranduil?”  He was about to help the elf up. At that very moment, he heard a groaning whimper making him freeze at the spot.

Alarm soon turned to panic when the whimper grew into a full-fledged groan. All of a sudden, Thranduil keeled over clutching his stomach and it was that moment when Thorin truly forgot to breathe.

“Oh Mahal,” he rasped choking with panic and unfocused thoughts. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

Thorin was not at all prepared for the blood curdling tone with which he was answered.

Thranduil couldn’t help but to scream, it was different for males to give birth, while females were already inherited with a birth canal, males were not and it was painful as their body would force a split on their abdomen to give birth, and the process was painful although necessary. Thankfully elves did heal remarkably fast so after the birth his body would go into overdrive to heal himself.

 “I’m all right…” He grit out, he had explained all this to Thorin but it didn’t seem to ease his lovers worry. He heard Thorin call out for the medic to come quickly and Thranduil gripped his hand tightly and he could feel the tear forming and couldn’t help but smile despite the pain, their child was coming and he wasn’t alone, he couldn’t wish for anything more than this moment with his lover and the life they had created together, he knew this was Thorin’s child and once the child was born Thorin would know as well.

Thorin hastily supported Thranduil and tried to keep him relaxed. In the process of having Thranduil leaning against him, Thorin’s eyes fell on his lover’s hand clutching the bulge, and the little red stains between his fingers which widened with every fleeting moment was something over which he couldn’t stay calm any longer.

 “You most certainly are not!” He growled blanching with a cold pang of fear taking control over his mind and body.

There was blood all over—staining the clothes, trickling down Thranduil’s hand, on Thorin’s hand...he had never seen so much blood on a completely healthy person. There wasn’t so much blood on one and there shouldn’t be!

However, he soon felt himself being pulled away, the sight of his lover sheltered behind two very familiar forms of a friend and his sister. The rest was a blur.

Thorin thought he saw someone else joining them, the healer he later realized. There was more pain, more blood, more screams filling the room. He knew he was afraid, he didn’t realize just how much but he was _terrified_.  He had seen Dís’ pain but he had never _witnessed_ it firsthand. Now that he was, Thorin believed he would collapse any moment at the rate fear crippled him.

The birth was a difficult and long process and when everything seemed like going into frenzy, the entire ambience of the room was stilled by a sharp wail seemingly putting everyone n trance.

And after what it felt like hours, when the healer had put the child in Thranduil’s awaiting arm, when Thorin saw just how perfect _he_ was, with his delicate pointed ears and thick dwarven mane, Thorin gasped out with oncoming relief, awe and a crashing realization and felt his knees weakening.

He had plopped on the bed.

They had a son. Thorin’s son, _his_ blood!

   
Thranduil’s breathing had slowly ebbed away into normalcy and the gentle caress to his face that turned into sweet kisses relaxed him all the more as Thranduil looked at their child with sweet appreciation and gratitude to have such a blessing in his life. He looked at Thorin who was also starring at the child who had stopped crying and was cooing softly in its mother’s arms.

“Here” Thranduil said shifting his arms as Thorin looked at him completely terrified for a moment. “Hold him; he’s your son after all.” He said as Thorin hesitantly took the child in his arms. “We still need to name him; this child will be a great ruler one day and I believe he needs a name that will reflect that…I was thinking Aranhil.” Thranduil said reaching up to cup Thorin’s cheek.

Thorin was simply stunned. There he was—all pink and little and so fragile—and beautiful! He had never really cared about the boy’s parentage before but now that he held him in his arms, Thorin couldn’t help but crack a smile at the very thought of him being a father to a boy having a part of his blood.

He leaned in to Thranduil’s touch and kissed him gently, letting the name roll on his tongue a few times.

“It’s beautiful,” he said and glowed with pride. “My son!”

 

“Our son.” Thranduil said with a smile as he leaned back into the bed truly exhausted from the recent experience but not wanting to miss a moment of father and son bonding. It was truly heartwarming to see the two, Thranduil smiled at what was now his family, he knew no one would ever replace Legolas and he would never stop reaching out to his child in Mirkwood but now Thranduil was bound to Erebor and this new child and his soon to be husband. Thranduil eyes slowly closed and he fell into a blissful sleep.

 

* * *

 

Thranduil stood looking in the mirror a smiled gracing his lips as he smoothed out his clothing, it had been a few months since he had given birth and finally he had managed to get his trim figure back to the way it was before. He knew it was silly but he did care what he looked like and being so heavily pregnant was not exactly comfortable so it was nice to be able to move around a little easier and wear clothing that he was more accustomed to. A soft whimper caught his attention immediately as he went to the crib that resided into his room and picked up his newborn child rocking him gently which seemed to calm him down. About that same time Thorin came back from his council meeting to visit.

Thorin smiled at the sight which greeted him. It was so long since Fili and Kili had been children and to have a child once more in Erebor was like a breath of fresh air. And to have a child with Thranduil was simply beautiful. He loved his family and found it extremely hard to concentrate on matters other than his family and wanted to be with them for as long as he could.

He was greeted by a kiss and a gentle coo. Picking up Aranhil, he looked eagerly up at his lover. His very expression spoke how excited he was and the look in his eyes matched his tone as well as he said, “I have news for you.”

He could see how immediately alarmed Thranduil became, his eyes widening expectantly as he knelt before Thorin, gesturing with his eyes to go on.

At that, Thorin’s smile grew and he delivered what he had been meaning to ever since the news had reached him, “That butler of yours has sailed.”

A noticeable amount of relief crossed Thranduil’s face but Thorin was not done.

“And your son. He threatened me to look after you properly through a mail...and he’s arriving here for the wedding.”

“Legolas…is coming?”  Thranduil asked not really expecting him to come, he knew Legolas was making excellent progress in getting his own council to overlook Thranduil’s scandal, and with Galion having sailed it probably made things much easier considering he was the only other who really knew what had happened, but he was surprised he would be attending nonetheless. He expected Legolas to visit eventually, after all he now had a brother and had every right to be part of his life and whether or not he accepted it Thorin was a step father to him now, or at least he would be soon.

 “I guess sooner is better than later, I do miss him although our time recently has been rather preoccupied.” He said giving Thorin a chaste kiss. “The ceremony is not for another week, do you know when he will be arriving?” Thranduil asked.

Thranduil’s excitement was something Thorin always enjoyed. He laughed at the quick kiss and cupped his lover’s cheeks, pulling him close for a long and proper one. When they broke free, Thorin replied, “It was one of your ravens which came with the message...so I am hoping sometime this week. And—”

Thorin barely got to finish what he was saying before he felt lips of an excited father smashing against his own.

And he returned the gesture just as nicely. 

* * *

 

The wedding had been grand. All of the dwarves of the Blue Mountains were invited and the people of Erebor practically needed to invitation to join the ceremony. It had taken some time but eventually, Thorin and Thranduil were forgiven and their union was a matter which was rejoiced by all.

The elves of Mirkwood did not miss the celebration either. Legolas had been eager to meet his father and brother. Tears were shed, bonds were made, renewed and strengthened and with the marriage of the two, Mirkwood and Erebor came to a stronger alliance as well.

Thranduil had made a declaration to secede from his title and relinquish the throne to Legolas, and made the final decision to stay in Erbeor with his husband. Although Thranduil knew if he wished he could probably return to his kingship in Mirkwood he honestly felt like he no longer had a place there, it would always be his home and he would visit frequently but only as a guest and father, he would not return as a King to Mirkwood again.

Thranduil looked at his husband with renewed love and loyalty to the dwarf king, he had become so much more to Thranduil than he had ever expected and was a loving and devoted father and husband to Thranduil and Aranhil which was more than he ever expected when this all began and Thranduil couldn’t be happier.

Thranduil smiled at Thorin from across the room as he laid down in bed for the evening, “You know…I was thinking a lot about last year when my heat cycle hit me, I just want you to be prepared this time around as it is something that I cannot avoid.” Thranduil began, although he was bonded that in no way meant that Thranduil would not go into heat every year, the only difference was he did not have to resist it like he had for so many years and he would not be so hazed and confused either since his needs will be met.  However, the cycle was the time Thranduil was more likely to become with child again and he wasn’t so sure that was something Thorin was ready for just yet, Thranduil himself would love nothing more than for the halls of Erebor to be filled with the sounds of their children but he felt it only fair to warn Thorin of this possibility.

“If it is something you wish to avoid yourself I would understand…” Thranduil said testing his lover’s reaction first, to sure how Thorin would respond exactly.

Thorin gladly took the hand which was offered to him and joined his spouse. He listened carefully to what Thranduil had in mind and didn’t miss the little hesitation with which the words were spoken. Honestly, he had considered the possibility of Thranduil getting pregnant again and he had wondered about his heat cycle. If anything, Thorin had a very good knowledge of how intense it would be.

Still...

He wrapped an arm around his husband, pulling him close against his chest and really taking his time to enjoy Thranduil’s warmth before he finally answered suggestively, “I would like a daughter next.” He smirked while he added, “And I would like if we both were involved in the making.”

Thranduil’s entire face broke into a brilliant smile and he embraced Thorin strongly. “You were always involved, I could never have a child with someone I didn’t love…I think my heart always was yours from the moment we first touched, regardless of my behavior and the circumstances surrounding out first born…my heart belonged entirely to you from that moment on.” He kissed Thorin passionately.

“I would love nothing more than to carry your children and be ours for all eternity…” Thranduil gave a small smirk. “I’ll see what I can do about a daughter.” He said with a soft laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this one. But we have a new project in progress and tonnes more ideas so, till next time~


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